Saving Harry
by Casyn
Summary: Another guardian fic, and yet different in its own way. Does Harry need saving? Or does he have to save himself...from himself? Read and REVIEW please, reviews make me update faster. Contains abuse and violence, possible self-injury and swearing. AU and Non-Canon Complaint!
1. Who I am

A/N: **Still don't own.**_ This is non-canon compliant. And this plot would not leave me alone, so instead of working on INoS? or PMA, I started this one, which is in the same universe as INoS but they can be read separately. This does contain abuse scenes and perhaps other scenarios as it goes forward. Let me know what you think. ~Case_

The almost eleven year old gazed into the darkness of his room, foregoing sleep once more. Sleep was not safe. The monsters came out when he slept and although he used to wish for help, he had given up. No one was going to save this little boy with his mess of black hair and startling green eyes. Eyes that were dull and bleak. Hopeless. He was hopeless. No one would save him, he no longer believed in wishing, hadn't made a wish since he was five. He just had to save himself.

The little boy, one Harry James, sat up as the first bit of light touched the crack under his door. His aunt would be raising soon and he needed to start her morning tea and heat the pan before she came down stairs. He wiped his taped glasses on his torn, dirty shirt, slowly cracking open the door. He peeked out, and finally deciding that it was safe enough, he slipped out of his room, trotting noiselessly to the kitchen. If he was quiet and fast, Aunt Petunia would feed him before her husband woke. He padded silently to the sink, picking up the kettle and filling it with water. He carried it over to the stove, setting it down on the back burner and, after climbing onto his stool, turned it on low. Stepping off the small footstool, since he was not yet tall enough to comfortable reach all the knobs, he pulled the large frying pan out from under the sink and grabbed a smaller one for the eggs. Returning to the stove, he placed both pans on the eyes, turning on the larger one while ignoring the smaller one for the time being. He tilted his head to the side, listening to the soft footsteps pattering around the second floor. His aunt was awake and just in time, as the tea kettle started to whistle. He carefully removed the pot, pouring it into a mug and setting it down on the table. He silently padded out the back door, slid around to the front steps and picked up the morning paper. He returned to the kitchen through the back door, uncle would have a fit if he used the front door, and sat it beside his aunt's tea mug, turning back to the stove.

Petunia Dursley entered the kitchen slowly, glancing at the little boy standing in front of the stove, on the bright green step stool she had bought years ago. She moved toward the table, a small scowl of her long, horsy face. She merely glanced at the table, a frown tugging at her lips. Perfect as always. She turned her sharp eyes to observe the child who was diligently working on breakfast. She stood, slowly moving toward him. His head snapped back up and the boy flinched as she reached passed him, moving the pan a little further back on the burner. She turned the handle so that it was facing the back, and turned the stove down a bit. It was too high and the grease would burn the poor child if it splashed him or that lard of her's knocked into him. "Settle Harry." She whispered, gently squeezing the boy's shoulder before moving to the ice chest. She rummaged around for a few moments, pulling out the eggs, juice, and milk. The boy already had the bacon started and it would not be much longer before the men of the household started to wake. Glancing at the time piece, she moved quickly, pulling out bread and lunch meat. She filled a glass with juice and another with water, pushing the latter toward the boy. The juice would burn his throat if he drank it first. Her damn husband had made sure of that. Her hands diligently made a sandwich, cutting it into quarters, two of which she wrapped in a towel and passed to the boy, who, without turning from rotating the bacon, slipped the food into his pocket. This was routine for them, had been routine since he was five and his aunt had finally had enough. Petunia had enough but she did not have the willpower to leave Vernon. The last time she tried...it was not pretty and Vernon had pushed much of the blame onto Harry. With one hand, the child lifted the glass gingerly to his lips, taking small sips of the water. She sat the rest of the sandwich on the counter, within his reach, knowing that the moment she turned away he would tear into it. Another reason she only gave him a small portion and the rest in his pocket. Otherwise he would make himself sick, eating so fast. His stomach was shrunken and she knew that. She worked desperately during the summer to keep him at a healthy weight, but without school meals and Vernon's decree that the boy did not need much food to survive, it was much of a struggle. Once he had finished with the water, she handed him the glass of orange juice, knowing full well that the boy hated it, but she also knew that he needed the vitamins. She just had to keep him alive. A few more months. And then she could sent him to Hogwarts where he would hopefully be safe.

Harry glanced at his aunt, who had finally seated herself and wa reading through the paper, before grabbing a small square of the sandwich, stuffing it into his mouth. Vernon was off today. He could very well not receive another meal. He was lucky as it was. He knew that. He had clothes, food, and a roof over his head. Isn't that what Vernon was always telling him? Although, if Harry was honest with himself, and he always tried to be honest with himself, it was not much better than when he had run away. Twice before he had taken off, survived on his own for weeks at the time, but always returned here. Even the nice man at the shelter could not save him. The man had promised to try but there was no evidence against Vernon. Nothing. Vernon was normal. It was he, Harry, that was the problem. He was a freak. A good for nothing freak. A starving, sickly, hurting freak. He didn't deserve what the Dursley's gave him. He was not good. He knew that. Even if Aunt Petunia had tried to explain to him that Vernon was wrong, had tried desperately to help him, he knew she was just confused. Vernon had told him, over and over, that he was useless and he learned to believe everything Vernon said.

Later that afternoon, Petunia watched out the window as the young boy weeded the garden in the horrid heat. She had slipped him several glasses of water, when Vernon was busy watching the telly, and had slathered him with sunblock, but she knew it might not be enough. His magic might keep him safe from the worst bits, but he could still get sun stroke. She glanced at the timepiece and sighed. Harry had been doing yard work, on her husband's orders, for nearly six hours. The yard was perfect, as always. Characterless. Boring. But perfect. And perfect is what Vernon expected, from everyone. She opened the door, wordlessly beckoning the boy inside and shooing him down to the laundry room, keeping one eye on her husband's bulk. Dudley was at a summer camp, one that she had picked, hopefully he son would learn how to be a real man and not become like his father. Already the older boy taunted and terrorized Harry, but Harry never said one word against Dudley. Once inside the laundry room, she shut and locked the door, turning her eyes toward Harry. The slight boy automatically pulled his shirt off, throwing it into the wash, as she moved to the cabinet, pulling out a hidden bottle of sun relief, knowing that her husband never came in here. She kept many things for Harry hidden in the cabinets here. Spare clothes, food that wouldn't spoil, bottles for water, medicine. Anything a ten-year old could need, especially if he was locked in the house by himself for days on in. She tried to convince Vernon that Harry needed watching, but the man refused point-blank. So instead, she made sure he had enough food and water to survive. And ways to contact her in case of an emergency. With gentle ease, she slathered his red skin with the lotion, motioning for him to turn. When he did, she rubbed another lotion into his back, a pain cream like one that Lily had given her, years and years ago, trying to be gentle, but the boy still fought winces as she rubbed his bruises. "Settle Harry." She whispered, stepping back and reaching into a basket of clean clothes. She pulled out one of Dudley's older shirts, it was a few sizes to small for the bulging lad now, and handed it wordlessly to Harry. It was much to big for the boy, but fairly new. And better yet, it was clean. She handed him a second shirt, which he slipped on over top of that, familiar with the routine also. He would slip it under his mattress so that he always had a second shirt. He could be semi-clean for a week this way.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Petunia." The boy whispered, staring at the floor.

Startled she turned her gaze fully to the boy. "For what, Harry?"

"For being so much trouble." He shrugged his thin shoulders, shuffling uncomfortably.

"Oh child. You are not too much trouble. Not at all. It is my duty to take care of you Harry. I promised your mother that I would. And I always try to keep my promises to Lily." She whispered, running a hand through his dirty, ragged hair. The boy needed a shower. When Vernon went to work tomorrow, she would make sure he took one. A long one. His green eyes had finally snapped up to her, listening eagerly. She glanced at the timepiece and then back at the boy. Not much time today for a story, but perhaps a short one could be managed. "Your mother was beautiful, Harry. Much prettier than I am. She loved to swing and every time she would jump, so high off the ground and float gently down, landing softly on her feet. It was...special. She was special. Her best friend, when we were children, was a little ragged boy, not much different from yourself. He was always there to play and talk with Lily. He convinced her of how special she really was. I do believe he loved her, in his own way." Petunia whispered, letting a smile grace her face as those green eyes lit up. Another tradition, but much more sacred to the both of them. He knew nothing of his parents and she, loving her sister as she did, wanted him to know the little girl that she clearly remember. They have had their ups and downs, but Lily was her sister and she loved her. And now she loved her child. Vernon had forbidden the 'M' word anywhere in the house and she knew better than to slip, for if the boy accidentally mentioned it, Vernon would thrash him.

Harry turned his green eyes up at her and a small smile twitched on his lips, making him look so young. But then, he was young. "Thank you, Aunt Petunia." He whispered, glancing at the timepiece. "I best start supper." And with that he was out the door, headed for his cupboard, where he stashed his second new shirt, before trotting to the kitchen.

"Worthless whelp! Good for nothing freak!" As Vernon's fist connected with the child's face, she found her voice once more. The child did nothing! "Vernon, he's just a child!" She objected, moving toward her husband. Vernon ignored her, pushing her out of his way. He was angry. His team had lost and the stocks were down. What better way to relieve stress than to take it out on the boy in front of him? None.

"Leave her alone!" With a force he didn't know he had, Harry slammed his uncle into the furthest wall. He turned to his aunt, fear in his eyes. He had been freaky again. And he would pay dearly for it. But he didn't want uncle to hurt her. Petunia was the only one to ever care about him.

"You little freak! How dare you harm me!" Petunia knew there was no stopping Vernon now, even as the man turned his beady eyes to her. "Go to our room love. I'll deal with the brat." He snarled.

"Vernon, please-" But she was cut off when he slapped her, hard.

"Now!" He roared. He would not have his wife denying him. Not over some little street urchin. Useless little monster.

With one last look at Harry, an apology in her eyes, Petunia fled. Staying would only cause more harm to Harry, she knew that. She would just have to wait until Vernon was sound asleep and sneak downstairs to tend to the little boy. Hopefully, Vernon did not try to kill him this time. Because she would call the police. She could not let him kill her only link to her family.

Downstairs, a boot connected with Harry's leg, causing the boy to yelp in pain. But then he fell silent, curling up to protect his stomach and head, as Vernon's boots kicked him over and over again. One well-aimed kick had him seeing stars. The next, and he started to black out. He did not fight his uncle, he knew Vernon would stop eventually. He heard the drawers sliding open, as the kicking briefly paused. The labouring breath of Vernon as the lard of a man stomped about, looking for something. He squeezed his eyes closed tight, waiting, just waiting for it to be over.

Back in his cupboard, the young boy laid still, unmoving. His ribs hurt, his body hurt. But he was listening, focusing on the noise upstairs. The sound of Vernon hitting his aunt. Again. He closed his eyes and bit his lip, wishing that it would just stop. That Vernon would change. Petunia did not deserve to be beaten. He knew that he did, he was a freak, but she was not. She was just trying to help him. And he still got beaten. His body ached but the bleeding had stopped and the pain was dull. His freakishness again. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Wishes did not come true. He knew that. Nothing would change.


	2. Wizard?

A/N- _Long long chapter. But it is jammed packed with details and events. The x's are there to help break it up into managable and understandable sections. Severus may seem OOC here but this is non-canon compliant. This is a world where Voldemort is truly dead. No Horcruxes, no twin cores. This is my, well I'm calling it my "Saving" arch. IT is AU. If you do not like AU, don't read. No descriptive abuse today, I wasn't in the mood for it. Anyway, enter Severus and our old friend, Tim Rainwater. (See INoS?.) Oh, and Draco too. Let me know what you think.~Case_

Vernon was on a business trip for the week, thank god. Hopefully she could find a way to get Harry out of there, and soon. Vernon had nearly killed him this last time, and that hadn't even stopped the man from hitting and kicking the child whenever he saw him. She was up early this morning, having seen him off to the airport at a quarter past five. Harry was still asleep and when he woke up, she would let him know that Vernon was gone. A week. Just a week to fix all the wrongs her husband had done to that child this year, but it would have to be enough. She would have to make this a good week for Harry. His birthday was soon, this week even, and Dudley was still at camp. She could finally spend time with just Harry. And she was thankful for that. Her bruises had faded, but her mind was still angry. The poor child. She just had to help him.

Harry woke with a start. It was quiet. Very quiet. A quick glance at his door showed rays of sunshine peaking through. He had overslept. Crap. Vernon would kill him. With that last thought he pushed himself up, pulling a dirty shirt over his bruise-covered ribs, snatched his glasses off the shelf and cautiously opened his cupboard door. He peered around the edge with a small frown. There was no one. Where was uncle? He padded silently to the kitchen and froze at the sight of Petunia making breakfast. She turned her head toward him with a small smile.

"Morning, Harry. Sit down, breakfast shall be ready soon." Petunia remarked softly, watching him. Chances were he was confused. Vernon was rarely gone for long periods and even rarer was Dudley gone at the same time.

Harry merely stared at her. "Sorry. Let me get that, Aunt Petunia." He muttered quietly, eyes down, padding toward the stove.

"No, Harry. Sit at the table please." Petunia ordered with a sigh. It would be a long week. "Vernon is away on business for the time being, on the continent. He will be gone for a week and a half. While he is gone, we will play a game Harry. Do you remember that game?" How she hated this, but how else did she make a ten year-old boy understand the cruelty that he was faced with constantly was not right. How did she explain what a normal family was to him, when this had been the normal for his entire life?

"Yes, Aunt Petunia. "

"Can you explain the rules to me, Harry?" She asked softly.

Harry frowned, screwing up his face in thought. "Yes, Aunt Petunia. I have to pretend to not be a freak."

"Harry!"

"Sorry." He ducked his head. What else did she want him to say? He was a freak. He knew he was a freak. She had just forgotten, was all.

"Perhaps I shall remind you, then. Rule number one, you are not to call yourself that name. You are _not_ a freak, Harry James! You are not to do the yard work or the cooking. You may help me around the house if you want to but only if you want to. You will allow me to buy you a new toy and you will go with me for your birthday dinner. You will not sleep in the cupboard, but in the...guest bedroom. You will eat every meal at the table and you are allowed as much to eat as you want. You will let me take care of you. You will ask questions, if you have any. You will play games. Do you understand these rules Harry? Can you follow them?" Petunia sighed, outlining everything that a child should have. Harry's shocked nod was the only sign that he was listening. It was going to be a long day indeed.

-x-

Three days later, Petunia knocked briefly on the door of the guest bedroom. The room that should be Harry every day, not just when the men were gone. She had let him sleep late, and for good reason. Today was his birthday. When his little face peaked cautiously around the edge of the door at her, she smiled. "Happy Birthday Harry. I made brunch for you but I want you to open this first." She held out a wrapped package to him, watching his round, shocked eyes. She had never given him a present on his birthday before. Vernon would never allow it. She always managed to sneak something into his cupboard, a new book or a warm blanket, but never much. This was his first present for the day. She was going to take him out. Perhaps to the Zoo, but probably to the museum as Harry always seemed to enjoy those field trips at school. Harry slowly took the package from her, fingering the plain brown wrapping. "Go on, Harry. Open it. I got it just for you." She encouraged softly, just as she had encouraged him to eat and play and read for the last three days. She wanted him to have a normal life but she knew that unless she escaped, he could not. Not under this roof.

Harry slowly pulled the paper off and then lifted the lid off the package. Inside was a brand new paper of trousers, ones that would actually fit, and a new button down. His eyes lit up at the gift. He had never had new clothes before! But if Vernon saw them...then Vernon just wouldn't see them.

"Go put them on Harry and come downstairs." Petunia hid a smile, hiding down stairs back to the kitchen. And stopped instantly when she spotted the owl on the window ledge. Of course it would come today. She sighed and went over to it, glancing back to make sure Harry was still upstairs. She quickly took the scroll it offered, giving it a bit of bacon. "Would you please wait until I have a response? It will not be until this afternoon, but I need to sent a message to the Headmaster." She asked softly. The owl merely hooted, took the bit of bacon and glided into a nearby tree. She smiled, pocketing the letter. She would open it later and write a reply. And a request.

After a long day of celebrating, having tucked Harry into his bed and told him another, much longer, story about Lily, one that he fell asleep listening to, Petunia pulled out the envelope once more. She had told Harry the story of Lily's magic tonight. He had been confused but she tried her best to explain it, even when he kept telling her that Vernon said magic didn't exist. She would have to speak to him about it in full tomorrow. But now, now she needed to read and sent a message back to Hogwarts. She read quickly through the acceptance letter, merely glancing at the supply lists. She had money saved up, hidden from Vernon, for Harry's education and supplies. That was not much of a concern. What was a concern, however, was keeping Harry safe. With that thought, she took out a sheet of paper and a pen, quickly jotting down a note. Walking to the window, she called the owl down. With a long remembered ease she tied the letter to its leg, feeding it a bit of bread. "Take this to the Headmaster, please." The owl took flight, quickly vanishing into the distance.

"_Dear Headmaster Dumbledore, I am imploring you to please sent someone to help Harry get his supplies and to take him immediately back to Hogwarts. He is not safe here. I cannot protect him from my husband for much longer. I fear for the child's life. I ask that you sent someone tomorrow evening, I will spent the morning informing Harry of his heritage. Please help, Petunia Dursley."_

_-x-_

Harry glared at his aunt. Glared! He was always passive but now she was messing with his head. The letter she gave him, from some boarding school, could not be real. Not at all! Magic didn't exist. That's what Vernon said. But Vernon had been wrong before. Right? Right. His parents death oddly made sense in his mind, it explained his odd nightmares. But still, magic! "Mum was a freak too, then." He muttered.

"Harry James! Your mother was not a freak. You are not a freak! Magic is a special gift. It does not make you a freak. It makes you different, yes. But you are not a freak. I do not want to hear you say that again, young man. Or you will not like the consequences." Petunia scowled, frowning at the young boy. She realized immediately that she had just threatened him like she did Dudley, when Vernon wasn't around. Hopefully he would not make her carry through out that threat, she was not sure if she could punish Harry in any way. He had not taken the news well. But she hadn't expected him to. She frowned toward the door, shaking her head as Harry moved to answer it automatically. "Sit, Harry. I will get the door." She muttered, stalking toward it.

The boy followed her slowly, watching her open the door from around the corner. When she gasped, he flinched. Hoping against hope it wasn't Uncle Vernon, home early. "You! Thank God! Please, come it.." He heard her say. Who was she thanking God for? He didn't even think the Dursleys believed in God.

"I'm not quite sure why you are thanking the gods, Petunia. You have never been quite this excited to see me." A man drawled from the stoop. Harry stiffened. He was not very fond of men, especially strange men. They tended to hurt little boys.

"Oh hush, Severus. I take it the Headmaster received my letter? Come it, I will explain." Petunia held the door open, gesturing for the man to come inside, and come inside he did. He stepped into the entrance way and Harry backed up, nearly running into the wall. He knew the man could not see him but the man was scary looking. He was tall, wearing all black, with long black hair. He was not big like Vernon, but much taller and with muscles.

Severus lowered his voice, glancing toward the small shadow at the end of the hall. "Albus said that you were scared for Harry's safety?" He asked softly. Petunia gave a slight nod. "I take it, that's Harry?" He nodded toward the end of the hallway.

Petunia glanced down the hall, to the barely visible shadow peering around the corner. "Harry? Come out here please. There is someone I want you to meet." She called softly. There was no answer. "Harry...Professor Snape was a good friend of your mother's, growing up. He's the one who told her about..who told her how special she was." Small, shuffling footsteps came around the corner and the little boy slowly approached them, eyes locked on the floor.

Severus frowned, surveying the child. He was walking stiffly, favouring his right leg. His posture was slumped, his manner resigned. Severus moved suddenly and scowled when the boy flinched and threw his arm up instinctively. So Albus was right, Potter was not treated well. But Petunia was not looking at the boy with hate or pity. But rather...love and concern. She had grown up, he knew that. He knew that she and Lily had put aside their differences and reconnected again, but it was different to see it up close than to know it. Severus moved slowly, cursing himself as the boy recoiled again. He crouched down, on the boy's level, a good ways away. "Hello Harry. My name is Severus Snape, I am a professor at Hogwarts. I have come to take you to collect your supplies. Petunia will be coming with us to get you ready for school." His voice was gentle, not his usual snarl. But then, he had experience with hurt children.

Harry looked up at Petunia, who nodded encouragingly. He looked up at Severus but did not meet his eyes directly. "Hallo sir." He whispered. "Are you a freak too?

"Harry!" Petunia scolded, shooting Severus an apologetic look. "You are not a freak!"

Severus froze, merely staring at the child. "No child. I am not a freak and neither are you. I am a wizard." He frowned down at the child, desperately trying to reign in his temper. It would not do for the boy to believe that he was anger at him. Not at all. "Come. We must get going, it is a bit of a trip to London." He ordered softly, straightening up and glancing at Petunia.

"Yes, it is quite a drive." Petunia raised her eyebrow at Severus in question, hiding a smile at his nod. Of course he could drive. But he probably had not driven in years. "Come on Harry. In the car please." The boy reluctantly followed them to the car, ducking his head. It was going to be a long day.

-x-

Severus watched the young boy and his guardian. The child should be excited and bouncing, staring openly like all the other muggle-raised children did. But no, this little eleven year old boy kept his eyes downcast. His face was blank. Petunia's was not and she kept trying desperately to bring the boy out of his shell.

"Look at that Harry! Isn't that amazing?" Of course Diagon Alley still impressed her, even though she was no longer a jealous school girl. "Ollivander's...that's where your mother got her wand." Her statement had the desired effect. Harry's head snapped up and his eyes found hers.

"Can we go there?" He asked quietly.

"Of course, Harry. But first we have to go to Gringotts." Petunia smiled at the little boy, gesturing toward the large, towering, white building. The little boy merely nodded, returning his gaze back to the ground. "Harry? Could you stay here with Severus for a moment? I must run in and get something." She did not want the child to know what precisely she had to do. He would fight her if he knew.

Severus frowned at the woman. Why did she not want to take the child into the bank? He was well-behaved, annoyingly so. At his raised eyebrow, she mouthed the word money, with a glance at the obedient child. Ah. "Actually, Petunia. The healer I mentioned in the car? I would like to take Harry to see him while you run into Gringotts, if that is alright." It would be easier to get it out of the way now instead of later.

"Of course, Severus. Harry, be good for Severus." Petunia smiled at the boy, he was always good. No worry there. "Shall I meet you there then?" At Severus' nod, she squeezed the boy's shoulder, turning and heading up the steps to Gringotts. She was going to set up an account for Harry's schooling, so that the boy would never have to worry about paying for books or tuition.

-x-

"Come along, Mr. Potter." Severus strolled away from the bank, heading for a small clinic set off the main road. He moved at a much slower pace than normal, so that the small boy could keep up. Hopefully Tim would find nothing too serious, but he could already tell that the child was small for his age and too thin. Harry followed him, keeping an eye on the black robe of his professor, so that he would not get lost. Severus stopped in front of a small brick building, waiting for the boy to catch up. He held open the door, gesturing for the boy to enter first. The child never glanced up, perhaps that was a good thing. It meant that the child missed the gold lettering on the door. _**Tim Rainwater, Healer**_. He had only been here a few times before, usually with a young, hurt student. Tim always came to him when he was hurt. Tim was also rather good with children, especially abused children.

"Good day, Severus. And you must be Harry." The kindly tall man stood, coming over toward them. The lobby had a handful of chairs and a receptionist desk. His brown hair was neatly combed and he wore sensibly black robes with the wand and heart symbol of a healer in gold, a note of his rank.

Severus merely nodded, meeting the healer's deep brown eyes, jerking his head toward the young boy. "Harry, this is Tim. He is a good friend of mine. He's going to scan you quickly." He turned to the boy, his tone matter of fact. His sharp eyes focused on the child whose only acknowledgment was a slight nod. Tim opened a door to one of the examining rooms, holding it open for Severus and Harry. "Come Harry." Severus barked, stalking into the room. Harry followed at a subdued pace.

Harry glanced around the plain white room. He flinched and tried to pull away when Tim suddenly lifted him from under his arms onto a long, tall table. _Doctor. Nononono. Uncle said no doctors! NO!_ His breath quicken and suddenly the doctor man was shoved away from him, the dark man caught and steadied him. _ Severus hadn't said it was a doctor! Did he?_ Harry wasn't sure but now he was completely frightened.

"Harry! Mr. Potter! Calm down this instant. Tim will not harm you. I promise you that." Severus growled, slowly and cautiously moving toward the child.

Tim merely sighed. This was not the first, nor probably the last, child that had struck out with accidentally magic."Harry, please tell me what has frightened you?" Tim asked gently, soothingly.

Harry rapidly shook his head. Telling was not allowed, not even to Aunt Petunia.

"Mr. Potter, tell us what you fear. No one will harm you or punish you here. You are safe." Severus barked briskly, knowing his tone was one that the child would obey. Frightened children always did. "Look at me, Mr. Potter."

Harry's head snapped up. He didn't dare disobey a direct order. "I can't sir." He whispered.

"You can, Mr. Potter, and you will. Whatever rules you are following are void here." At the child's confused expression, he sighed. "Those rules are not in effect here, Harry. You will not be punished, at any time, because those rules do not exist here. But these new rules do. Would you like to here the new rules?" Severus elaborated, dropping his tone down a notch, to sooth the boy's irrational fear of him. Well, of everything. The rapid nod was his only answer. Of course he wanted to know the rules, knowing the rules was the only way to avoid punishment for an abused child. If he was abused and currently all signs were pointing that way. "The rules that you will follow today are as follows: you will attempt to eat at all meals, you will obey your aunt and I, you will tell the truth at all times,you will not refer to yourself in a degrading manner, you will ask any questions you have, and you will allow Healer Tim to exam you. Understood?"

The child needed a firm manner, it was what he understood best, and it was proven to be the best course of action a moment later when he replied with a quiet "Yes sir."

"Good. Now as for punishments for breaking any of these rules. If you break any of these rules you will write lines and if you continue to degrade yourself, I will wash your mouth out with soap." Severus finished. Consequences were good, they would help Harry feel safe if he knew what to expect. "These rules apply for all of today and the near future. Now, are you going to be a good boy and let Tim examine you?" Severus asked, still using his strict, potions master tone.

"Yes sir." Harry whispered. The rules were so simple, so much better than Uncle Vernon's rules. He gave a silent gasped and smacked his head hard. He wasn't suppose to think like that! He went to smack his head again, but a gentle hand grabbed hold of both his wrists and suddenly he felt calm. Peacefully even. More freakishness. He gave a small sigh, but relaxed into the touch.

"Whoever harms him has Harry trained." Tim murmured to Severus, sending small doses of calming magic into the child while Severus slipped off the boy's shoes, which seemed brand new. The trousers he was wearing were new as was the shirt, but both seemed to be in their second or third day of being worn. A child without many nice things. His socks showed obvious wear, full of holes. His glasses were taped together. And his ribs showed through his shirt. This child was neglected, at the very least. "Who gave you these clothes, Harry?" Tim asked softly, letting up on the calming magic so that the boy could hear him clearly.

"Aunt Petunia. For my birthday yesterday. 'Twas the first time I ever had new clothes! And new shoes! They fit!" Harry replied, a bit drowsily. The calm that flowed through his body felt so good. It was different and comforting. He didn't even realize that he had answered honestly until the fog around his brain started to fade. He tried to hit his head again, but the healer held tight to his wrists.

"No Harry, no hurting yourself. The rules state that you have to answer honestly, remember? You do not need to punish yourself for following Severus' rules." Tim replied calmly, his face as kind and calm as always. Inside his mind was not, this child had been seriously hurt. He could see it in the child's eyes. It would be a long road to healing and if they pushed the boy too far, he could end up as a self-harmer. His current actions were proof of that. "I'm going to scan you now Harry. First with my wand and then with my hands, is that alright?" He added quietly. The boy merely gave a nod. He slowly pulled his wand out of his holster, letting the boy see it for a moment before waving it in an intricate pattern, muttering in Latin. A deep scan, one that would note every injury every done to the child, as well as his age and the time and date. When a quill and parchment appeared near his head, Harry flinched and cowered away from it. "It's alright child. It will not hurt you. That's just magic. Now, while that is working, I want to scan you. I just need to place a hand on the back of your head and one on your chest, is that alright?" A timid nod was his answer.

Several minutes later, Tim sighed, stepping away from the child and grabbing the parchment and scanning it. His frown deepened even further, if that was possible, as he read the long sheet of parchment. He had known, upon seeing the child, that it would be bad. But he did not realize how bad. His own scan and the deep scan showed damage over a period of time. Abuse that had grown and increased as Harry became older. Tim motioned to Severus, waiting until the younger man stepped over to him before raising a silencing bubble around them. "He cannot return to that home. I won't allow it." His calm demeanor faltered for a brief moment but he reigned it back it.

Severus sighed, glancing over at the boy who was staring at his own swinging feet. He had known that this was likely, but it was not an easy situation. "His aunt told Albus that she feared for the child's life. I was sure she was exaggerating." He lifted a brow, holding out his hand. Tim wordlessly passed over the parchment. Severus scanned it and his scowl darkened. Tim raised a gentle arm on the younger man's forearm, refraining from sending calming magic to the man just yet.

"You will not do anything rash, Severus. Or I will have you on restriction until September 1st." Tim threatened softly. Severus growled and glared at him, but gave a hesitant nod in agreement. He would behave. For now.

"There is another child at the house, his cousin. But Petunia said that her husband spoils the child and has never raised a hand to him. From a glance at the family portraits, of which Mr. Potter was not in any, the child is severely overweight. With Harry removed, the uncle might turn his attention to the other child. I am sure that he hits the aunt." Severus drawled slowly, not liking his line of thinking.

"I will have to report this to Wizarding Child Services, but I will wait until Harry's guardianship has been transferred. I assume he will stay with you and Albus. However, tomorrow I can submit a report to muggle Child Services. If the aunt comes by here, I will offer her help. It is difficult for a woman, no matter how strong, to remove herself from an abusive situation, especially if she faces losing her child to said abuser. Harry suffers from all four forms of abuse, and if we are lucky he will not develop the fifth. From what you have observed, the cousin probably suffers from neglect." Tim sighed. It never became easier, working in these situations. But this, then again, was his specialty. "I will heal Harry and then you may continue your outing." He added quietly, ending the silencing spell and going back to the child.

-x-

An hour later and Severus was leading the way to Madam Malkins. Petunia had spent a good twenty minutes talking with the mind healer and had finally agreed to accept the wizard's help. After Severus had assured her that he could be trusted of course. For some reason unknown to even herself, she felt that she could trust Severus, the boy she had mercilessly teased as a child but who was still willing to help her family out of a bad situation. She directed Harry onto a stool, nodding to the friendly witch who strode over, taking rapid measurements of the timid boy. "He needs a full kit please and three extra sets of robes. Two pairs of trainers and a pair of good boots." She remarked absently, gazing around the small shop.

The witch frowned, taking in the state of the child in front of her. Dressed in new clothes, but ones that have yet to be washed. Probably his only set, the poor dear. "Pants and undershirts too? Socks are a definite. Causal shirts and trousers, perhaps. What colours would you like dear?" She muttered, mostly to herself but aimed her last question at Harry, who glanced up shocked and dropped his eyes back down just as fast. The witch glanced at Petunia, who merely sighed, and then back at the child. Perhaps he was shy.

"His favourite colour is purple. You have...muggle clothes I see. So perhaps a purple button down and a dark purple jumper. Hm. Light blues and dark greens bring out his eyes. Two of each in button downs. Also a forest green jumper. Five causal shirts in those same colours. A black winter coat, mittens, and scarf. Hogwarts hat, scarf, and tie. Two dark trousers, two of the denim and two khakis. One pair of swim-trucks. I remember Lily mentioning how wonderful the lake was for swimming. A dozen trouser socks. A dozen pants, half briefs and half boxers. Let's make the boxers a nice silk, green, blues, and purple. Pajamas, one set purple and blue, the other green and silver. And then, six of the school uniform shirts and robes. Perhaps an extra pair of trousers." Petunia murmured, watching the witch who nodded and waved her wand, the requested items in the right sizes floating into a box.

"Would you like growth charms? It is a bit extra, but good for growing boys. It means that his clothes and shoes will grow with him, at least two sizes. Should last nicely until his second or third year. Pants and socks, of course, will not grow." The witch remarked, hiding a smile. Although she hated seeing children who need everything, usually with Professor Snape, who was lurking in the background, because they were usually neglected, she did love a woman who knew what she wanted and who bought so much.

"A growth charm would be amazing." Petunia smiled, wished that Dudley's clothes had a growth charm. She glanced at the small boy in front of her who was openly gaping at her.

"Are you trying to catch flies boy?" Severus teased, frowning as the boy stiffened but then barely concealed a grin as he closed his mouth, understanding the joke. Severus frowned at the small, blond boy who hesitantly entered the shop, completely alone. He knew the child. He also knew that at eleven, the boy would be terrified and trying to hide it. He should not be alone. But he could not leave the pair that he was escorting to hunt down the boy's father.

Petunia had also noticed the child, frowning at his absence of parents. One of the attendants had pointed the boy toward a stool to stand on and be measured until the Madam finished with Harry. She glanced at Severus, who was scowling darkly at the door, shooting glances in the direction of the boy. He had noticed it too, it seemed. She sighed, stepping toward the boy. "Hello there. My name is Petunia. Are your parents with you?" She asked gently. The boy scowled at her with a nearly blank face, but his pale blue eyes showed fear. Whether of her or someone else, it was not clear.

"Are you a mudblood?" He growled, stepping back from her. His father had drilled into him that muggles and mudbloods were not to be trusted. He did not understand why exactly, but he did as his father said.

Petunia frowned at the boy. She did not understand the term but she knew it was offensive. "No, I am not. Where are your parents?" Her question was still soft, still kind. It was a tone she had learned to use when asking Harry difficult questions or calming Dudley down when he was hurt.

The boy scowled. "I don't have to tell you."

"You don't know, do you?" Harry asked, frowning at the rude boy. No one should talk to his aunt that way. She was nice, especially to him.

The blond looked down, biting his lip. He would not cry. He would not. "Shut up, mudblood." He snarled.

"Draco Malfoy! If I heard you say that word again, you will regret it young man!" Severus growled, stepping on of the corner and frowning at the blond boy. Both eleven year olds flinched and he sighed, taking note to soften his tone.

"Uncle Severus! I didn't know you were here." Draco murmured, relaxing a bit. No one would hurt him with his Uncle Severus around, even if his father had recently forbid him from seeing or talking to the Potions Master.

"Draco, can you tell me where your parents are? Do you need help finding them?" Petunia asked gently. When the boy shuddered, she frowned. That was not a good sign. She glanced at Severus who had strode over to stand in front of the two boys.

"Mother is at home, having tea with her friends. Father brought me to Diagon." The boy shrugged, replacing his mask forcefully. He glanced at the other boy and extended his hand. "I'm Draco. What's your name?" He added. A new friend would be something good to come from this trip. His father had left him with enough galleons to buy all he needed and treat himself a bit, a bribe for him to not tell his mother that he was left on the Alley by himself while his father went to do god-knows what.

Harry stared at the hand for a moment, not quite sure what to do. He glanced at Severus, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Mr. Malfoy wants you to _shake_ his hand, it is a polite gesture to do so when you meet someone new." Severus drawled, hiding a smirk when the Malfoy boy glanced at him incredulously.

Harry merely nodded, extending his own hand and hesitantly touching Draco's. The boys shook hands but Draco still raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.

"Tell him your name." Petunia ordered softly, trying to help the boy along. She never realized how much he did not know until they were in situations like this. Vernon had taught Dudley this when he was five. But Harry...well, she rather not remember what he did to Harry.

Harry blushed. It was so simple. He should know this! _Idiot. _"My name is Harry." He whispered.

"Louder, Mr. Potter. I do believe that Mr. Malfoy cannot hear you." Severus ordered, shooting Draco a glance when the boy's mouth dropped open. Draco quickly calmed and nodded, he understood that look quite well. He would not make a big deal out of who the boy was.

"I am Harry." Harry stated again, slightly louder this time.

"Good to meet you Harry." Draco grinned. This was a learning experience for sure! All of his associates already knew how to introduce themselves. It felt good to teach someone else.

"You too." Harry muttered, figuring that it was a good response as any.

Draco turned to speak with the Madam as Petunia went to pay for Harry's new clothes. Severus sighed. He would bring Draco with them. The boy was too young to roam Diagon alone. Easier still, they would not have to lug around his packages, as the boy had the forethought to get everything sent to his house. Severus waited until all were set and then led the way on. Three more stops and they would get wands.

-x-

An hour later they were standing in Ollivanders and the two boys were listening intently as Petunia described when Lily had gotten her wand. Severus smirked. It was a good memory, he had been there as well. He did shoot Petunia a glare and a raised eyebrow when she divulged in his first wand experience. But it had both of the boys giggling, giggling!, like the children that they were. Children who had been forced to grow up so fast. He had already sent an owl to Albus and knew that Albus would have an owl waiting for him back at the Dursleys. One that would hopefully tell him what do to with the child.

Draco's wand had chosen him fairly fast but Harry's was going much slower. Wand after wand. Holly, Oak, Blackthorn. Nothing seemed to like him. Nothing at all. Aspen and Beech both shattered the glass. Applewood blew up the counter. Harry just knew, deep down, that there was not a wand for him. He wasn't a wizard after all. But Mr. Ollivander kept shoving wands in his hand. The older man seemed to think that something would work. Yew, Elm, and Fir did not work. Finally Mr. Ollivander disappeared into the back, muttering to himself. Harry glanced at his aunt and sighed. She was sitting patiently, watching him. Draco was bored, swinging his feet and twirling his new wand, until Severus made him stop at least. But Severus, Severus merely had an air of disinterest, a shield surrounding the three watchers, much as it had when Draco was trying out wands. Hawthorn for Draco. But even that had not worked for Harry. Although he had to admit that some of his explosions had been pretty spectacular. Mr. Ollivander reappeared suddenly, holding a dusty old box. Harry obediently took the proffered wand and gave it the desired swish. Surprisingly, nothing blew up. The wand felt...good. It fit his hand perfectly, like it was made just for him. The sparks that flew out of the end, purple and red, were different from the other wands he tried and even from Draco's wand.

Severus had leaned forward when Harry picked up the wand. The wand which acted as wands should. Apparently this wand 'chose' the boy. Or rather, it fit his personality well enough for him to work best with it. It was rather interesting, the wand looked almost like his own. Almost but not quite.

"Ah, good Mr. Potter. This wand has chosen you. Willow, eleven and a quarter, slightly swishy, with a Unicorn core. I say, this will be a good wand for you, Mr. Potter." Ollivander smiled at the boy, turning to go to ring up both of the sells and the arm holsters that Severus had suggested to both boys. Harry merely shrugged. A wand was a wand. This one felt amazing. Finally, truly he believe. He was a wizard.

_A/n- Yes, Harry has a different wand here. From the wand woods list, on pottermore, Willow is a healing wand. It is good for healing magic and for wizard who do not quite have faith in themselves yet. It fits Harry quite well. This Harry at least. In this story, Severus also has a Willow wand. Thirteen inches with a core of Dragon Heartstring, but the wood is darker than Harry's. _


	3. Dragons, Geckos, and the Cottage

_A/N- Do not own. Still AU and Non-Canon Compliant. This is a no Voldemort world, so things are a bit different, including Harry's scar. This does have a bit of swearing in it, but the swearing is rather justified. I'd swear to. Vernon comes to a head with Severus... Enjoy. _

_~Case  
_

-x-

The trip back from London was fast, after Severus had floo'd Draco back home and explained to his mother how he had found the boy alone on the Alley. The boys had ice cream and lunch, although Harry had barely ate any of it. This time he drove so that Petunia could rest briefly. He could tell that the older woman was tired, exhausted. Harry was asleep in the back, clutching his new wand to his chest, as well as an animated dragon plushy. While the boys had eaten their ice cream, Petunia had asked him if any of the children brought toys with them. She remembered that Lily had taken her favourite doll and later had some odd rocks, but wasn't sure if it was alright for a child Harry's age, only eleven, to have a toy or two. He had to hold back his laughter at that. He knew for a fact that all the common rooms held an assortment of toys, books and games that were age appropriate for the first through third years in one area and games and books for the older students on much higher shelves. The first years were only eleven, many still played with dolls and 'action' figures and slept with lights on. When he had finally been able to tell her that it was perfectly acceptable, she had suggested, after he took Draco home, that they make one last stop. And she had bought Harry quite a few toys and games. The boy was quite taken with the dragons, especially the flying dragon toys. Severus, himself, had picked up a few new toys for the Slytherin common room, quite a few of the board games and puzzles were missing pieces, and had slipped a few small things for Harry in the pile. One being the dragon, purple and silver, that the boy now clutched. Every child needed a stuffed animal, he knew that well. All of his hurting or scared first years ended up with one. This child was no different, even if he was not in his house. But he had this feeling...

"What will happen to him, Severus?" Petunia asked softly, breaking the silence. She recognized that he was deep in thought but she was worried about the child in the back seat. Very much so. He was her sister's only child, her nephew. The child she had sworn to protect and had grown to love. And yet, she could not protect him. Not from her husband.

"I am not quite certain yet. I await an owl from the Headmaster, but I assume that I will leave here with Harry today. Did Tim explain to you the extent of the abuse?" His tone was softer than usual, less of a snarl and more of a statement. It was, and would be, a hard situation for everyone involved. The child needed help, desperately. Both physically and mentally.

"He only mentioned the Harry suffered from four types of abuse and that my husband has him trained well. I tried, desperately, to never leave him alone with Vernon. But I was not always successful. I'm not quite sure what the four types of abuse are. I know two of them, but the others?And well trained?" She replied quietly, glancing in the back once more. But Harry didn't stir at all. She had felt something brush past her but had ignored it. If it was a spell to keep Harry from hearing, all the better.

Severus waited until his silencing spell took hold. "Your oaf of a husband has Harry trained like a house elf. If he says or does something against the 'rules', he punishes himself. I believe he merely thought badly of your husband and he started hitting his head. House elves are used by wizarding families as servants, although some are willing and treated well. Many are taught to punish themselves for speaking or thinking ill of their masters, for not cleaning well enough or doing something not to perfection. You might have noticed if Harry was a perfectionist. Everything has to be just right? That is because of the brainwashing from that oaf. The four types of abuse, as Tim defines them, are Physical, Verbal/Emotional, Sexual, and Neglect. Harry suffers from all of them. Although, Tim was not sure if your husband sexually abused Harry or not. The evidence there was a bit...confusing. It seemed to happen when he was-"

"Four. Harry and Dudley were both four. A friend of Vernon's abused them both, although Vernon refused to believe Harry. That man has long since been in jail." Petunia replied, steel in her voice. That man had hurt both of her boys. It still made her so angry.

"Your son told you?" Severus asked quietly.

"Dudley did, yes. Harry and him were still playing nicely then. Until Vernon...anyway, Harry told him that he had to tell, because no one would believe him. And Dudley told me that he almost didn't. But Harry told him that if he wanted the man to stop, he had to tell. Harry was so smart, even at four." She sighed, staring off into the distance.

Severus hesitated. The abuse had shown at four and then later again at eight. He had a feeling that the later abuse was the husband. But he had no proof and Tim had said that he would come by and check over the other boy when he came back from camp. It was better to speak with Harry first and get the facts before speculating. He knew the little boy in the backseat had suffered greatly, but even at four to believe himself worthless? To know that he would not be believed? If he could only get his hands on that lard of a man..

"If...when I leave Vernon, once it is all settled, I would like to have Harry. Give him the family he deserves. I know it can take a year or two, and I know Harry will be safe with you, but.." Petunia trailed off, gazing at the small boy in the mirror.

"When you have the custody of both boys settled and once Harry is at a healthy state of mind, I'm sure something can be worked out, Petunia. But the child is far from healthy. Physically, he is underweight, bordering on severe, as well as having quite a few badly healed bones. We can only guess at were he is mentally, and I am sure that it is not a good state of mind. It could take several months, if not years, for him to heal. There are four weeks until term, hopefully that will be long enough to get him started toward healing." Severus replied dryly. It was clear that she loved her nephew, but he was not sure if the boy would even feel safe going back. They had to break him of bad habits and form healthy ones. It would take time.

"How long did it take for you, Severus?"She asked softly.

"Don't." He snarled. He would not talk about that with her. He would not even think about it, not now. Not ever.

_Long enough, then. _Petunia sighed, returning her gaze to the road as Severus turned down a street toward Privet Drive. Almost home. Home. A sterile, perfect environment without love or emotion. Perfection. Not lived-in or loved. But spotless, perfect for guests to think they were perfectly normal and wealthy. Not a place that she really thought of as home any more. How could it be home? She glared at the sterile house, with its perfect yard and flawless exterior, as it came into view. The exterior might be perfect but inside, inside the house was wallpapered with lies and painted with scars. It was neither perfect nor flawless, rather it was broken. A broken house, a scarred soul.

-x-

Severus scanned the parchment in his hand once more. The owl had flown to a tree to wait for a response. But there was no need for one. Albus' orders were quite clear.

_"Severus, take the child home. I will prepare a room for him and have another added to my quarters, and yours, at Hogwarts. Do nothing rash. I do not need my Deputy in Azkaban, nor does Harry need you there. The owl is for Petunia, so that she can contact us if there is a need. Tim will be there when you get home. ~Albus."_

_Do nothing rash. I wonder what his definition of rash is...No matter, the fat oaf is not here._ Severus sighed, tucking the letter into his pocket, along with the small scrap of parchment that had been tucked inside. "The Headmaster has given the owl to you, so that you can stay in contact with us." He glanced at the older woman, who merely nodded. Harry had been sent upstairs to gather his things and she was folding all of his new clothes and placing them inside the new truck. His books, the toys she had bought, his robes...everything. It would be easier for Severus to shrink one thing and carry it, instead of several parcels.

Harry frowned, picking up the worn shirt and trousers from the floor of the guest room. His other possessions were in his cupboard, where he belonged, when his aunt wasn't so confused. He did not like this. Not at all. _Why doesn't she want me? What did I do wrong? No one wants a freak. No one._ He slammed his head into the wall, relishing in the bit of pain. He deserved punishment, that is what Uncle always said. He was bad. Dirty. A freak. And freaks must be punished.

Petunia glanced up at the ceiling. What on earth was that child doing? That awful banging almost sounded like...damn it. With that thought she was flying up the stairs and into the guest room. She strode forward and wrapped an arm around the boy's waist, ignoring his flinch. "No, Harry. I've told you before, you do not do that. There is no need to hit your head, child. None at all." She stated sternly. She hated being so strict with him sometimes, orders and scoldings, but that was all Harry understood, that was all he knew. He needed orders to feel safe. Otherwise he would get upset and confused.

"Deserve it." Harry whispered.

Petunia sighed, kneeling next to the small child. "No Harry. You do not deserve it. Not at all. You are a wonderful, precious child and you do not deserve to be hurt. Understood?"

"You don't want me." He whispered.

"What? Of course I want you, Harry! I love you, child. I am sending you with Severus to protect you, to keep you safe. One day soon, we will be back together, I promise." Petunia replied softly, but inside her heart was breaking. He thought that she did not want him, but she did. So much. He was merely a child, but he was her child. Her nephew. Of course she wanted him, she loved that little messy mop of black hair, those emerald-green eyes, even the jagged scar on his head, from where the ceiling fell on him as a baby. The child had been hurt so much in his short life, she did not want to hurt him anymore. She just wanted him to be safe and protected, as he would be with Severus.

Harry looked up at her, meeting her eyes with his own green ones. She loved him. _Him._ No one ever loved him. But his aunt did. He might not understand her logic, but that was alright. He would go with the man who was a freak just like him. If only to make her happy. "Okay, Aunt Petunia. I'll finish packing and go with that man." He whispered.

"That's my good boy." Petunia praised softly, hugging the stiff child briefly.

He held still for a moment, waiting until she straighten up before heading downstairs to his cupboard. He avoid the eyes of the older freak, keeping his head down as he opened the door and slipped inside, picking up his worn backpack and his spare shirt, a few broken soldiers and his drawings.

"Why is the child in the cupboard?" Severus scowled, he had a feeling he would not like this answer.

"It is where he sleeps when Vernon is home." Petunia looked down, avoiding those sharp, dark eyes.

"He sleeps...in a cupboard. He is a child, Petunia! Not a wild animal!" Severus snarled.

"Shh! You will frighten him." She hissed.

Severus took a deep breath, trying to calm down his emotions. It would not do to make Harry scared of him. He turned his head sharply, sneering out the window. "When did you say the oaf was supposed to be back?" He asked quietly. This was not good, not good at all.

"Not for another three days." Petunia whispered, going to glance out the window. _Fucking hell. Why is he home early? _"You need to go, Severus. Take Harry and go." She hissed.

Severus hesitated. Leaving the woman here to face the wrath of her husband was not something that he was sure that he could do. It did not matter what their past was, no woman should have to suffer at her husband's hands. With a flick of his wand, the rest of Harry's belongings were packed and the trunk shrunk down. He slipped it into his pocket. "Harry, come here child. We need to leave, now." He hissed softly. The boy merely peered at him around the door of his cupboard. Severus took a deep breath. Of all the times for the child to stop obeying!

"Uncle is home." Harry whispered, stepping back into his cupboard.

"Yes Harry. We need to leave." Severus stepped toward the child, just as the front door slammed up. He froze, keeping his eyes locked on the child who was now ducking down in the cupboard.

"Petunia! I'm home! Conference ended early." The lard of a man called out, shuffling through the front door. He glance at the open cupboard door, pushing it shut as he walked past. "Good for nothing freak." He hissed, moving toward the sitting room, and suddenly froze. There was a man standing there, between him and his wife. Oh, was she in for it tonight! "Who are you?"

"Vernon, this is an old friend of mine. Severus was just visiting for tea. He was about to leave. Let me take your bags and fix you some tea, love." Petunia replied hastily. This was not good, not good at all. He had that look in his eyes, the bad one.

"I see. Well you better leave then." Vernon snarled.

"I certainly shall take my leave. Come, Harry." Severus called, moving slightly, his hand reaching for his wand. What Albus did not know, didn't hurt him.

Harry slowly peaked out of his cupboard, flinching. The freak man wanted to beat him too?

"You will get out of my house!" Vernon shouted, shoving Harry completely back in his cupboard.

"Do not touch that child!" Severus did not shout, but his voice was dangerous.

"Are you threatening ME? In my OWN HOME! I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT FREAK HAS TOLD YOU BUT IT IS ALL LIES! GET. OUT!" Vernon bellowed, storming toward Severus.

Severus stepped back, placing his body between the pig and Petunia, casting a silent spell to place a shield over the cupboard. Stupid oaf. Did he not know who he was dealing with? Vernon swung his fist wildly, meaty hands reaching out to grab Severus and he flinched. _No no no. _His wand was suddenly slashing through the air and then Vernon was gone. In his place was a gecko. Another wave of his wand, and the Gecko was suddenly in a tank, scurrying about. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and forcing his mind away from where it was starting to drift. He needed to focus.

"You turned my husband into a lizard." Petunia whispered, glancing down into the tank.

"Yes. He will stay like that for five days, or until I change him back." Severus sighed, leaning heavily against the wall. Albus was not going to be happy. But it hadn't exactly been rash. He had been threatened, after all, as had the child. He turned his gave to the cupboard, giving a slight wave of his wand. The shield spell drop and the door flung open, revealing a cowering Harry. "Come child, it is alright. He is gone." Severus whispered softly, crouching to be on the boy's level. "You can come out. It is safe. I will not hurt you."

Harry hesitated but slowly inched out of the cupboard, his gaze darting around. Gone? Where had uncle gone? And why was Aunt Petunia glaring at a lizard? She did not like lizards. "Where is Uncle?"

Severus jerked his thumb toward the gecko. "That is your uncle. I must say, I prefer him in that form. It will give your aunt the time she needs. Now come, Harry. We must leave." The child would not meet his eyes, but Harry did move slowly toward him, glancing repeatedly at his aunt.

Petunia moved slowly toward the child, crouching down near him and hugging his tightly. "You will see me again, Harry. Now be good for Severus and the Headmaster. I love you, dear child." She whispered.

Harry merely nodded, allowing her to hug him. He gazed at the lizard, frowning. More freakishness than. But why such a small creature? Uncle would be better as a pig. He suppressed a snort and then grimaced, slamming his hand into his head.

Petunia sighed, grabbing the child's hands and shaking her head. "I think he makes a good lizard too, Harry. He would have been a good pig, though." She whispered. The child giggled. "Go with Severus, Harry. He will take care of you."

Harry hesitated but moved slowly from his aunt to Severus. He looked up in the crouching man's eyes and sighed. He did not like this very much. It meant new rules and different beatings. He knew that, it was ingrained in his being.

Severus surveyed the child for a moment. He was going to just tell the child to hold tightly to his arm, but the boy was so small. With that last thought he stood, easily lifting the eleven-year-old boy on to his hip. The child started to struggle though. "Don't fight me Harry." He whispered sharply. The boy stilled automatically. He nodded to Petunia, wrapped his arms tighter around the child, turned and disapparated.

-x-

Severus held the child still, rubbing the gasping child's back. apparating was difficult the first time, especially for children. He gazed over the child's head, which was buried in his shoulder. The ocean was beautiful at this time of the year, warm enough for swimming even. The stretch of beach was big enough for running or playing, while still being private and secluded. No one else came to this stretch of beach or the cottage in front of them. Severus hoisted the child up a bit higher on his hip, striding forward up the path of sea stones. He remembered his first time here, nearly eight years ago when he was not much older than a teenager. He climbed the hill steadily, letting the child rest against him. Harry had not said a word yet. The child had not even looked up. Severus slipped a piece of parchment out of his pocket, tapping the child's shoulder gently. "Harry, I need you to read this please." Severus order quietly. The boy shook his head, his eyes closed. "Come on Harry. Read this please. Then we can go inside and get you something to settle your stomach."

Harry groaned. His stomach hurt and his head was spinning. He leaned closer into Severus, although he was too old to be held and not used to being held, it made him feel more secure right now. He slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head. He suddenly gasped, spotting the ocean. _Where are we? How did we get here? _He turned to look in front of them, to where Severus had walked. The man had just suddenly stopped in the middle of the pathway. He was holding out a piece of paper to him, which Harry slowly took, glancing down at it. _Seaside Cottage. _He frowned and looked up at Severus, confused. But stopped suddenly, gasping. "How? What?" A cottage had just appeared in front of them, inside a picket fence. The cottage was a washed out blue, three stories with a large screened in porch. It just looked magical. There were a handful of hammocks on the porch and chairs in the yard, the cottage had a decidedly live-in look and feel, so much different from Privet Drive.

"We are at Seaside Cottage, Harry. This is my home, and now it is yours. Now, let's get you inside. " Severus hid a smile. He had reacted much the same when he had first came here. After he had calmed down of course. Which might have taken a few days. He loved this place, it was always nice to come here during holidays or on the weekends when he really just needed to get away from Hogwarts. He strode up the walkway, opening the screen door with one hand. He did not plan to put the child down until they were in the kitchen. Of course, he did not count on the little pot-belly pig that tried to bowl him over. "Down Maple! Where is your master?" He growled.

Harry flinched, turning his eyes downwards. He did not like that tone, it scared him. His eyes fell on the spotted pig and he gasped. The pig was looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. He bit back a smile, forcing his face to remain in his mask. But he did reach a hand down toward the pig, although he could not quite reach it.

Severus adjusted his grip on the boy, hoisting him to a better position. "Settle Harry." he ordered softly, moving around the pig. Stupid thing was getting old and fatter, but he did still love that pig. Of course, if Maple was here, that meant that Tim had moved back in. _To live with my healer again. Joy._ He mused, sarcastic even in his own mind. Severus moved gracefully around the kitchen, using his free hand to set a kettle to boil, before lifting the boy to sit on the counter. With a quick, silent spell, he summoned a vial of stomach soother and a calming draught. Severus caught both easily, setting the calming draught on the table, before opening the stomach soother and offering it to Harry. For some reason, the child move away from him, back up against the wall. "Mr. Potter, you will take this potion. It will help your stomach feel better. Now please." He ordered sternly.

The boy hesitated but shook his head. Uncle said no medicines. Surely this was a medicine. "I can't." He whispered, knowing that this too broke a rule.

Severus frowned. What in the world? "Why not?" He asked, trying to soften his tone. He did not want to frighten the child.

"Against the rules."

_Of course it is. Damn muggle. I should go back and turn him into a newt or an ant. Yes an ant, I could 'accidentally' step on him if he was an ant. Hmm._ "Do you remember what I said early, Mr. Potter? Those rules no longer apply. What rules did I give you today?" Severus coaxed.

"That I would not call myself those degrading names, eat all the time, tell the truth, listen to my aunt and you, and let the healer exam me." Harry recited, flinching. Had he broke a rule? He had tried to eat and he hadn't called himself a freak, out loud anyway. He listened to his aunt...Oh. "Sorry." He whispered, ducking his head.

"No need, Mr. Potter. Now, drink this please." Severus barked, holding out the vial to the boy. Harry stared at it, confused. He sighed, lifting it to the boy's mouth. "Open up." He ordered. The boy automatically obeyed, screwing his eyes shut. Severus slowly tipped the vial up, allowing the liquid to flow into the boy's mouth. He removed the vial and placed a gentle finger under the boy's chin, forcing his mouth to close.

Harry swallowed and opened wide eyes. It took a few moments, but his stomach felt better. "It's like Aunt Petunia's special lotion!" He grinned, forgetting himself for a moment.

"Your aunt has a special lotion?" Severus asked, curious. Petunia had no magic, but perhaps she made a lotion out of herbs, or bought a lotion made from healing herbs.

"Yes sir. She buys it at this special organic place. It has all these 'healing' properties or something. It makes my bruises hurt less." Harry looked down, pulling his mask back up.

"I see. Are you hungry?" Severus frowned, watching the small boy.

"No, sir." Was the only answer.

"Then let me show you where your room is." Severus remarked dryly, thinking quickly. "Would you like to walk?" At the small nod, he lifted the too light body of the counter and set him down. "Follow me." He barked, leaving the kitchen and walking through the living room. The boy automatically moved toward the closet and he frowned. "Come Harry, you can explore later." He barked.

Harry turned confused eyes to him but followed him to the stairs. Where was he sleeping, if not in the cupboard? Freaks like him belonged in the cupboard. Did Professor Snape have a cupboard too? Was his bigger because he was so big? "Is my cupboard up stairs?" He had never been allowed to sleep upstairs when Uncle Vernon was home. Only on rare occasions when he was gone.

Severus froze, midway up the stairs. The child had stopped at the bottom and was watching his with earnest, green eyes. "No Harry. Your bedroom is upstairs. You will not sleep in a cupboard." His reply was quiet and sharp, as he fought to keep his anger at the monster inside. "Come now." He growled, starting up the stairs once more. The boy scurried up after him. Severus stopped at the opening to a second stair case. "This leads to the third floor. You are _not_ to go there alone, not just yet. I will show you around later." He barked, before turning to stalk down the hall, slow enough that the child could keep up. He glanced at the doors and smirked. Albus had given Harry the room across from his, so that they both were next to Albus' own room. "Here is your room, Mr. Potter. Mine is across the hall." Severus gestured to the door that clearly said "Harry" and then to his own. "Go on." He ordered.

Harry hesitated, staring at the door. His name was on it. He had a room. A room! He never had a real room! Only good boys got rooms. He wasn't a good boy and Professor Snape would be angry when he learned that he gave a room to a freak. But Professor Snape was a freak too, wasn't he? And he had a room. Perhaps this was a house for freaks, to keep them away from other people. Wasn't that what Uncle was always threatening? But the professor would get annoyed if he kept standing here. With a sigh, Harry slowly opened the door, stepping into the room. He gasped, eyes wide. He turned to look at Severus, confused. "For me?" He whispered.

"Do you know another Harry James Potter?" Severus drawled, smirking down at the child.

Harry shook his head, turning to take in the room. There was a bed, a real bed! A wardrobe, a chest of drawers, bookshelves, and a desk. It was so huge, and the walls were a muted light blue with dark blue trimming, and a silver rug! He loved it. It was so beautiful, but the bed could not be for him. This could not be for him. The wardrobe though...perhaps he was meant to sleep in there?

Severus frowned at the child, pulling out the trunk from his pocket and enlarging. "Here Harry, unpack. I will be downstairs if you need anything. Perhaps you should take a nape before supper." Severus suggested, setting the trunk at the foot of the bed. "I will be back up to check on you in a bit." He hesitated but left, sensing that the child just needed a bit of space now. It was a bit much to take in all at once, especially for a child of only eleven. He headed downstairs, desperately needing his tea. Albus should be here soon and he needed to find a way to avoid telling him about the gecko. Albus would not be pleased.

Harry stared open-mouthed around the room. Now that the professor was gone, his mask dropped. He was overwhelmed and confused. He glanced longingly toward the wardrobe and finally gave in, pulling a jumper and a robe out of his trunk and opening the door of the wardrobe. It was rather spacious. He bunched up the jumper, setting it in the corner, before crawling in and pulling the door almost shut. In the near dark, he pulled the robe over himself and closed his eyes, wishing, for the first time, for the safety and normalcy of his cupboard.

_A/N- Welcome to Seaside Cottage, if it seems familar and you are reading INoS that would be why. I told you they were related but not necessarily inter-connected. Also, Maple is Tim's pig, his familiar. Because Tim is odd and has an odd Familar._


	4. Discoveries

A/N: _Still don't own. Shorter, yes. But I think it is fitting this way. Alex- I have also wondered if Harry will be ready to start at Hogwarts. He will be going to school regardless. But he might not be ready for Hogwarts... This does contain a bit of Severus angst, because I can't not write it. For those of you who haven't read INoS, Severus has a past of Self Injury and eating problems. Will those come into play here? Yes. To what extent...I cannot say for sure. Severus will have a few minor scrapes with harming himself, but I do not believe he will have a complete relapse. That would be another story entirely. This is about Harry_ and_ Severus however, so it might overlap a bit with_ _INoS in dealing with Severus' past.I apologize if my medical terms are not completely correct or if I have made some error in the care of pot-belly pigs. My mum will not let me have one, so my research comes from google and not experience. Feel free to correct me on either of those. Reviews make me smile. Oh and -x-'s are page/time breaks. Italics are thoughts! _

_~Case  
_

-x-

Severus paced restlessly in the living room. His tea laid abandoned on the end table. He had left the boy for all of fifteen minutes and yet he wanted to go check on the child. Badly. He finally huffed and gave up, heading silently up the stairs. He stopped just outside Harry's door, listening to the silence. Children were never that quite. He had been a Head of House for a decade, he knew how loud children usually were. Even his little Slytherins, when they wanted to be. He opened the door a crack, gazing around the empty room. He scowled, pushing the door completely open. The child was gone. He had left him alone for fifteen minutes and he had disappeared. Damn. Hadn't he done something similar the first time he was here? He whispered a curse under his breath, pulling out his wand. "Point me Potter." He growled, frowning when the wand pointed at the wardrobe. What on earth?

Harry was curled up in a ball, with room on all sides of him. This wardrobe was a bit bigger than his cupboard had been. But the wood was hard and cold. He was asleep, feeling safe for the first time in forever, though his body shivered.

Severus stalked toward the wardrobe, stopping himself from yanking it open. It would not do to scare the child. He was probably hiding in there because of fear. He sighed, slowly opening the door. "Harry?" His quiet, stern call was not answer. Severus stared down at the child, sound asleep and peaceful, curled up in the wardrobe. He reach down and gently picked up the child, who stirred briefly, easing the boy onto the bed and covering him with blankets. The boy shifted for a moment before falling back into a deep sleep. He hesitated, casting a ward to alert him should the child need him or wake. He left as silently as he came, leaving the door open a crack. Severus bypassed his own room, heading back down to his cup of tea. He started to pace around the living room once more, his mind racing. That had been too familiar, too...painful. The child felt safest in a closet, for Merlin's sake! What did that say about Harry's life. There was so much evidence, physical and otherwise, that the child was severely abused. He knew that. But to see the child act like a scared animal, sleeping in a closet! It was just...too much.

In a moment of rage, Severus picked up his tea cup and slung it into the nearest wall. He took a deep breath, checking to make sure his silencing spell was still up. He did not want the child to wake up and hear him. Severus did not hesitate for long though, quickly throwing quite a few books into the far wall. He slung the entire tea tray with ease, satisfied over the lovely smashing sound it made. He glanced around, glaring at the furniture. Albus would kill him if he started throwing chairs again. He growled, kicking the side of the couch hard before spinning around and slamming his fist into the wall. That felt good. The pain rushed to his mind and added to the Adrenalin that was flowing through his veins. He started rapidly pummeling his fists into the walls, relishing in the pain and relief. At least his anger was dissipating as he took it out on the wall. He was so caught up in his pummeling that he did not even hear the floo go off.

-x-

Tim stepped through the floo, into his second home and grimaced. There was glass and china, as well as books and parchment, everywhere. His frown deepened when his gaze landed on the young man pounding the wall. He knew Severus well, having spend the last eight or so years as the man's healer. Severus, when angry, seethed. When he reached a point where his rage became too much, he might occasionally throw something, but usually he merely sneered and snapped. Rarely he shouted. There had only been a few times when he had destroyed an entire room and took his fists to a wall, times that had not been fun for either of them. He hoped to god that Severus was not about to have another relapse. Not now, not with a child upstairs. A child who had suffered much abuse in his short life. A child so much like Severus. _Damn it. Chances are that something Harry said or did, probably on instinct, reminded him of his own childhood. _ "I'm sure the wall has done nothing to deserve being hit." He remarked dryly, surveying the young man.

Severus bit back a groan, slamming his hand into the wall one last time. The amazing pain, it brought such clarity, such relief. But he knew that was not the best way to deal with his problems. He did not want Harry to see it as a way of handling the bad things in life. Severus turned slowly, arms folded. Both of his hands were swollen and he believed that he might had broken one of them. But the blessed pain... Ah well. Old habits die hard. "I apologize Tim. I did not mean to take my...frustrations out on the wall." He replied, gazing around the room briefly. "Or the furnishings."

Tim merely nod, having expected that answer. A flick of his wand and the room was back to normal, the china and glass fixing itself. He gestured toward a chair, sitting down in the one across from it. Severus merely rolled his eyes, obeying silent. He had known that this would happen if he was caught. "Explain." One simple, calm word. But it made Severus grimace.

"I was...angry."

Tim sighed. "Why?"

"Potter..Harry was sleeping. In his wardrobe, instead of his bed. That monster has done such damage to that young boy. Damage that I'm not sure is completely fixable." Severus scowled, raising an eyebrow at the irritating healer. He already knew that he would not like this conversation very much.

"Harry will live with scars for the rest of his life, Severus. You know that. Even if we manage to vanish the physical scars, he will still have the mental scars. Just as you do. I am sure that you did feel righteous anger on Harry's behalf at first, that explains the china perhaps. But that does not explain why I came here to find you harming yourself." Tim's calm tone never wavered but his eyes held concern and worry. It had been four years since Severus' last major relapse. There had been a few minor incidents of self harm over the years, but nothing that was totally unexpected. The young man in front of him had been a serious self harmed just eight years ago. Two major relapses when Severus became overwhelmed with emotions or rage. His childhood was enough to invoke a relapse the last time. Eight years of continual therapy and there were still pieces of his childhood that Tim did not know. He did know that the two abused boys were much more alike than Severus would ever admit. He also knew that if he allowed Severus to wallow in the past or to not speak about it, the boy would easily fall back into harming himself to deal with his emotions and his pain. It was enough of a fight to get the child to eat every day. And now his attention would be divided between this child in front of him, a man now, really, and the young child upstairs.

"I wasn't harming myself." Severus snarled. He wasn't, not really. _Perhaps I was but it was merely my fists. I was not taking a blade to my skin nor do I want to._

"Severus, you cannot lie to me nor should you lie to yourself. We both know what you were doing. I would like an explanation." Tim frowned at the younger man. Severus was no fool, he should know by now that he missed nothing.

"I was angry and I'd rather not talk about it. Right now at least. Alright?" Severus huffed.

Tim watched the younger man for a moment, before nodding. He would get it out of him before the end of the day, but Severus needed some time to cool down a bit. "Hands, please." He ordered quietly. The other man growled but shoved his hands toward the healer. Tim sighed at the mangled state of the boy's knuckles and fingers. He gently took hold of one of the boy's hands, running his healing magic through it. He let that hand go and grabbed the other, doing the same. This hand, however, was in a much worse shape. One of Severus' Metacarpal's had cracked. He sighed, sending a tad bit of calming magic into the man before healing the bone and reducing the swelling. He withdrew a bruise paste from his robes, spreading it quickly over both hands before releasing them. "Alright, Severus. Try not to hit anything else, okay?"

Severus glared at the older man but gave a stiff nod. He really just wanted to go up to his lab and brew off the rest of his anger. But the look that the damn healer was giving him was not a good one.

"Anything else you want to tell me?" Tim asked quietly. When Severus merely shook his head, he sighed. "Alright then. If you do not want to talk about what happened, you may go to your room." He braced himself for the argument that would come, knowing that Severus would likely perceive it as a punishment at first.

Severus bit back a groan and rolled his eyes. "I am not a child Tim." He growled.

"No, you are not. However, I would like for you to calm down in your room and think about what caused this. Write it in your journal if you have to. But I do not want you brewing right now. Your mind is not in the right place and you know how much easier mistakes can happen then." He was still calm, as he always was, but he knew that Severus had come to know the meanings behind what he said, without him having to tell the boy that he was worried about him.

Severus muttered under his breath for a moment, cursing silently. Tim did not like to be cursed at much, nor did Albus, come to think of it. "Harry-"

"I will look in on him. I need to talk with the child anyway. Chances are, he is confused and upset. You, however, need some quiet time before you see the child again, time to placate your temper and calm yourself. Do not think that we will not talk about this Severus. We will. But right now, I want you to think on it. Alright?" He interjected quietly.

Severus sneered. "Fine. I will go." He stood swiftly, stalking up the stairs. To be sent to his room like a naughty child! And yet it still happened more than he liked, although not as much as the first time he was here, before he could call this place home.

Tim sighed and followed the younger man at a slower pace. He did, after all, need to check on Harry.

-x-

Harry winced, rolling over. His throat hurt, as it always did when he first woke up. He opened his eyes with a grimace and then bolted upright. He was not in his cupboard but in a strange room, in a soft bed. This was not the guest room at Privet Drive. His eyes darted around rapidly, landing on the man who sat nearby. The man who looked oddly familiar. Wasn't that the doctor man that he had seen earlier? Suddenly it hit him. _It really happened. Aunt Petunia sent me with that tall man, Professor Snape. This is real. Not a dream. Real. I am with freaks._

"Harry?"Tim asked gently, moving slowly toward the boy. Harry flinched, cowering back. Tim sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"Where am I?" Harry whispered, glancing around the large room with amazement once more. This could not be for him. Freaks did not sleep in rooms like this. Even if the professor had said it was his, surely he was just confused?

"Do you not remember Harry? You are at Seaside Cottage, the home of Severus, Albus Dumbledore, myself and now you. Also, a little pig called Maple." Tim explained gently, knowing that the boy probably just did not believe it.

Harry nodded briskly, reaching up to absent-mindedly rub his throat. "So it is a home for freaks." He rasped, wincing at the pain. He stared down at his lap, hating himself for being so different.

"Does your throat hurt, Harry?" Tim asked gently. He had seen on the scan that there was some damage to the lining of Harry's throat, but the damage had not been new and it was not the most pressing injury the child had. The boy looked up at him, not meeting his eyes, with eyes filled with fear. _It does, then. Oh child, we have such a long, rough road ahead of us._ Tim wandlessly summoned a glass of water, frowning when the child flinched. "You do not need to fear magic Harry. It is not bad or freakish. It makes you different, but it does not make you a freak." He remarked, not unkindly, holding out the glass to the child.

Harry froze, staring at the older man. He knew he wasn't suppose to use that word, but the doctor man...didn't the Professor call him Tim? He was merely scolding him. He didn't even sound anger, he was being...nice. To a freak like him. _Everyone here is so strange. _ He mused, slowly reaching for the glass. When the older man did not snatch it back, something that uncle was fond of doing, he grasped it and held it tightly, taking slow sips from the glass. He had backed away from Tim a bit, so that the man could not try to remove his glass.

"It's alright Harry. I will not take it from you. I will not harm you child. I am here to help you." Tim settled back in his chair, his hand resting on his knees. He wanted the child to see him as open and non-threatening. "How is your throat feeling?"

Harry hesitated. Uncle would not like him answering, but the professor had said that those rules did not apply here. He was expected to be honest and truthful. "Hurts a little." He whispered, looking down.

"Does it always hurt, Harry?"

"No sir. Only when I wake up, for a little bit." Harry shrugged, staring at his lap.

"Hmm. I'd like to have a look at it after supper tonight, if that is alright with you." Tim watched the boy thoughtfully. There might not be much he could do for the boy's throat, but he did want a closer look at some of the damage he had found in his scan. He also wanted to see about healing some of the much older damage. "Do you have any questions you want to ask, Harry?" He asked gently.

"Will Uncle always be a lizard?" Harry blurted out, before he could stop himself. He liked his uncle as a lizard. It almost made him feel safer. Almost.

Tim frowned, furrowing his brow. "Your uncle came home early?" He asked quietly. The boy merely nodded. Oh he would be having a long conversation with Severus later. He had warned him not to do anything rash! Turning the man into a lizard...that was rash! "Probably not, Harry. He will probably return to his own form with time. Knowing the spell-caster as I do, however, it will probably take nearly a week. You do not have to fear your uncle here, child. You are safe here." Tim replied gently.

Harry bit his lip, nodding slightly. He did not have to actually believe the man, but he knew better than to disagree. Uncle was a lizard! For at least a week. And he didn't have to go back. Aunt had said that he was going to stay here until he started school in September. So he was safe from uncle at least. Perhaps these men here would not hurt him as much? Since they were freaks too. But he did not have much hope in that. He knew he was being silly. Adults always hurt him in the end, even if they pretended to help at first.

Tim watched the child in silence for a moment, making a quick decision. "Would you like to officially meet Maple, Harry?" He asked with a small smile. The child's face quickly lit up.

"Is she yours?" Harry asked, grinning at the thought of the little pig. Well, the rather large pig.

Tim merely grinned back at the child, standing slowly and holding a hand out to the boy. "Maple has been with me for nine years. I believe she might even be larger than you now!" He teased. The boy grinned, forgetting himself for a moment and taking the older man's hand. He took the glass, vanishing it back to the kitchen, and pulled the child to his feet. "Maple is rooting around in the kitchen. It is nearing her feeding time. Would you like to help feed her?" He asked.

Harry grinned in response. "Yes sir!" Aunt Petunia would have a fit, she was not fond of pigs very much. And yet she had married one. Harry grimaced, smacking his head hard. _Stupid stupid. Bad Harry. Freak._

Tim looked down at the child and frowned, wrapping a hand around the child's waist and lifting him easily onto his hip. He grabbed the boy's hands with his free hand, shaking his head sadly. The child had so much ingrained in him. They would have to break him of this habits and fast. Otherwise, he might harm himself for the rest of his life. Much like another young man he knew. "Stop Harry. We do not harm ourselves, understand? There is not reason to hurt yourself. Whatever you were thinking, no matter how bad or naughty you might think it was, is not a reason to hurt yourself." He ordered sternly, knowing that the child would listen to that tone better than any other.

Harry looked down, biting his lip. "Sorry sir." He whispered. He wasn't quite sure why harming himself was bad. Uncle had always taken pleasure in watching Harry hurt himself. But these men did not seem to like it. Not at all.

"It's alright Harry. I just ask that you try not to. I know it is an instinctive action, but you must try to fight it." Tim sighed, looking down at the child on his hip. Harry seemed a bit uncomfortable with being carried but he also needed it. He was young enough to need comfort still and small enough to be carried like a toddler. Hell, the boy did not weigh much more than a toddler. He was not joking when he had said that Maple was bigger than Harry. Maple weighed over 30 kilos and had nearly knocked Severus over eight years ago. The child barely weighed 20 kilos, not enough for a boy who should be growing soon. He wanted Maple to get used to Harry from his hip, that way the pig would not accidentally get so excited that she broke the boy's ribs. He shifted the boy so that he was more secure and carried him out of the room and down the stairs.

Harry leaned into Tim slightly. He was confused as to why both men had decided to carry him, but that was alright. He was tired today, even after his nap. And he really did want to meet the pig, so he would just obey for now.

Tim strode into the kitchen, smiling fondly down at his spotted pot-belly pig. "Maple, I have a new friend for you. This is Harry. I want you to be gentle Maple, no rough housing." He ordered sternly, knowing that the child was looking at him like he was crazy. But Maple merely head-butted his leg. Harry had leaned over, trying to touch the pig. He sighed, shifting the child so that he could safely reach down, not yet ready to set him down with Maple. She snuffled the child's hand for a moment and then pushed her head against it, allowing the boy to scratch her behind her ears. Tim allowed the boy a few minutes of scratching the pig, before straightening up and setting the child on the counter. He picked up a large bowl from the floor, setting it next to Harry. "Alright Harry. What I need you to do is pull the stems off of these and check them for black or white spots." Tim instructed, setting a small basket of little tomatoes and grapes next to the child. Harry eagerly tore into the basket, sorting it careful. Tim hid a grin, chopping the rest of the vegetables for the pig's dinner and mixing it with the feed. He took the basket Harry offered, mixing all of it together, before setting it down for the pig to eat. He had put the dish away from where they were, but he wanted to keep the child on the counter just to be safe. Maple was territorial when it came to food. Tim rummaged in the cold box for a moment, coming out with two apples and a container of grape juice. He reached for two glasses, poured the juice into both and set one beside the child, who as watching Maple tear into her food with a bit of morbid fascination. "Here Harry. Eat this please." Tim ordered gently, tapping the boy's knee to get his attention.

Harry barely suppressed a flinch, taking the apple with one hand and picking up the juice with the other. He sipped it slowly, grinning into his glass when it actually tasted good. This was much better than nasty orange juice. His eyes, however, were still on the pig. No wonder Aunt Petunia would never have one! Maple was getting food everywhere, all over herself and the kitchen. Tim didn't seem mad though, he was gazing fondly at the pig. He still sat on the counter, his feet could not reach the floor and although he could jump, he did not want to risk angering the healer. Besides that, the pig was quite...violent with her food. Perhaps Tim had put him up here to keep him safe. Harry frowned slightly at that thought. Perhaps it would be different here. Just perhaps.


	5. Revelations

_A/N- Why yes, it is rather long. I still do not own. X's are, as always, changes in scenery or breaks for blocks of texts. Italics are thoughts. This one is quite...full of bits of everything. Severus angst, a fearful Harry, and Albus finally shows up. Enjoy. Reviews are like chocolate! _  
_~Case_

_-x-_

Tim smiled down at the small scene on the floor. He had finally set Harry down, after Maple had finished eating, and the boy had quickly taken to the pig. He was now sitting on the floor with the larger pig curled up beside him, scratching her head. Tim turned back to the stove, keeping one eye on the child. Albus would be home soon and it would be supper time. He wasn't actually looking forward to that, he had this feeling that it would not just be Severus who struggled to eat.

-x-

Severus paced. He was irritated, frustrated, bitter. Sent to his room like a child! And yet, he understood why. If he brewed in this state, even if he did manage to lock down his shields and empty his mind, he would easily make a mistake. Again. Last times the burns from the potion had not been that horrible, the potion not that volatile. But that did not make much of a difference to Albus and Tim. He had still gotten hurt because he had been distracted and he could not afford distractions when he was brewing. He knew that. He also knew that Tim had sent him here for more than one reason. Yes, thinking did help him calm down. But he could also do no damage to himself within these four walls. Accidental, perhaps, but not intentionally. Severus sighed, sitting down in his worn armchair. _He is right. I do need to regain control before seeing the child. I cannot have Harry afraid of me. _ He mused, taking a few calming, deep breaths.

-x-

"Tim?" The tall, much older, man with the outlandish robes and flowing white hair, tied neatly back, stepped out of the fireplace into his home. Albus glanced around the living room with a small frown. Usually the younger two men would be playing chess just about now, forgetting about Supper once again. _Ah but Harry is here._ He strode toward the kitchen, slowing down a bit. Severus and Tim had both told him that the child was not healthy and skittish. He did not want to scare the boy.

"In here, Albus." Tim called back, glancing at the small child. The boy had flinched at the sound of Albus' voice. "Alright there Harry?" He asked gently. The boy merely nodded, completely still. His hand had even stopped scratching the pestering pig.

Albus paused in the doorway, gazing toward the child on the floor, the one who kept his head down and was not moving. Maple, however, can over and snuffled at him, snorting. "Hello there, Maple. Why yes, I do have a treat for you." Albus bent to scratch the pig for a moment, slipping an apple out of one of his robe pockets. The pig snatched it and took off into the living room, to devour it in peace. Albus chuckled, straightening up. "Hello there." He remarked quietly, turning to gaze at the small child.

Harry did not even look up, keeping as still and quiet as possible. He was suppose to be quiet and invisible, wasn't that what uncle always said? If he didn't move, the man wouldn't hurt him. Right?

"Harry, this is professor Albus Dumbledore. He lives here too."Tim stated gently, turning completely from the stove to watch the child. The boy seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible.

"I won't hurt you Harry. How about I'll just sit down over here, alright?" Albus remarked softly, sitting down in one of the kitchen chairs. The boy would probably feel more comfortable if he sat on the floor, but his bones were quite old. He had chosen a chair where Harry would be able to see his every action. This was not his first rodeo, after all. The child, however, seemed to curl further up into himself.

Tim sighed, watching the child intently for a moment before turning back to the stove. Harry needed to come out on his own, it would help start a bridge of trust. But he was well aware that the child might not be ready to make that first step. It would just take time to see how badly hurting this child really was.

Harry stayed still for several minutes, before slowly moving. He straightened his body, shifting so that he was sitting much more comfortably. The older man was watching him with twinkling blue eyes. He didn't seem like he would hurt him. But adults always did. Except for Aunt Petunia, but she was just confused. Maybe these men were confused too. He hesitated but finally stood, moving away from the wall and toward Maple, who was lying beside the icebox. But he had to walk past the man to get there. With slow, cautious steps, Harry took the widest path around Albus crouching down beside Maple once more. He did not like having his back to the man though.

Maple snorted, watching the small human with one open eye. She had been planning on taking a nap, but the human kit seemed so terrified of the Lemon-man and even of her human. She rolled to her feet, pushing her head against the child's hand. The little kit scratched her head happily. She shook his hand off gently, moving slowly away from him. Step by step. She stopped every few steps, to allow the child to pet her once more, before continuing this game. The human kit did not even realize that he was getting much closer to Lemon-man.

Harry followed the pig across the kitchen, giggling. For some reason he felt safe with Maple. Well not just with Maple, he felt safe here. In this 'house'. Mansion more like it, it was so huge! Harry stopped suddenly, frowning at Maple. He was only a few inches from the older man, who was not paying any attention to either him or the pig, but was reading a paper with moving pictures. Huh. Maple was resting against the older man's legs and snorting at him. He had liked this game, but why was Maple tricking him? Unless she trusted this man? She clearly trusted Tim, and animals were a good judge of character, at least that's what his teacher had said. Harry reached forward hesitantly, scratching Maple's head once more. The pig curled up against the man's legs, lying down once more. He scooted forward a bit, finding the place were Maple loved to be scratched once more.

"She's a spoiled one, Maple is." Albus remarked softly from above the child. He had noticed what the pig was doing, but had said nothing. He was actually quite pleased that Harry dared to even get that close to him, if only to pet Maple. The boy flinched a bit but did not run away from him. The child was actually staring at his Prophet like it was the most amazing thing that he had ever seen. _Ah, but the child was muggle-raised. He probably hasn't seen magical portraits before._"If you like, I can show you some books with portraits just like these." He offered quietly.

Harry gasped, looking up at the older man. He didn't mean to stare. "Sorry, sir." He whispered.

Albus raised an eyebrow, hiding a frown. "You do not have to apologize for being curious, Harry. Most children are." The boy merely stared at his lap, shrugging slightly.

Tim frowned, lifting the pots off the stove and onto the table. He summoned the plates, ignoring the slight flinch of Harry's. The child would have to get used to magic and soon. The boy was watching wide-eyed as the table set itself. Tim removed the chicken from the oven, flicking his wand to send a silent Patronus to Severus. He was well aware that he might have to go fetch the younger man. Again. With the table set and the food ready, he fumbled in his robes for a moment, setting three potions at Severus seat and three more at Harry's. "Come on Harry. Let's get your hands washed." He ordered quietly, reaching a hand down to the child. Harry backed away from it, colliding with Maple. The pig squealed indignantly, headbutting the child who went sprawling. "Maple! I told you to not be rough." Tim scolded, crouching near the child. "It's alright Harry. I won't hurt you. No one in this house will hurt you." He added gently, holding out a hand to the child.

Harry scrambled away from him, backing himself back into the corner. He had hurt that man's pig! He was in so much trouble, he knew. "Sorry sorry sorry." He whispered, scrunching his eyes up.

"For what, Harry?" Tim asked gently, still crouched on the floor. He was a few feet from thee child now, allowing the boy some distances.

"I hurt her."

"Who Maple? No, you just startled her. If anything, she hurt you. I'm not angry, Harry. Why don't you come out now." Tim replied evenly, keeping his face and voice completely calm.

"Don't wanna." Harry whispered softly, squishing himself further into the corner.

"Mr. Potter, please remove yourself from the corner." Severus barked sternly, leaning against the door way. Tim frowned at him but gave the tiniest nod. The child needed a firm hand. He needed structure and rules. Otherwise he would be a brick wall, much like he once was.

"It is supper time Harry. Come, let's get you washed up." Tim ordered quietly. If anything, the boy kept trying to blend into the walls.

Severus sighed, striding toward where Tim was. He, too, crouched on the floor, dark eyes meeting green for a brief second. "Look at me, Mr. Potter." The boy's head snapped back up, fearful green eyes meeting his own. "Good boy. Now come. It is time to eat." Severus ordered, holding out a hand to the child.

Harry hesitated but took the offered hand, allowing the older man to pull him to his feet. The next instant and he was on Severus' hip again. What was it with these men picking him up? Not even uncle's creepy friends had picked him up or held him like they did! No one had ever cared for him like this, never held him just because they could. He did like the bit of comfort and safety that he felt in Severus and Tim's arms, but he was still not used to being touched at all. Much less carried like a child! He was a man! Of all of eleven. Severus had carried him to the sink, turning the sink on with one hand. Harry sighed, leaning over to scrub his hands. Uncle had never cared if his hands were clean. But Aunt Petunia had, a few times. He loved being clean. It was such a distant feeling, clean was. Once his hands were clean, the man turned, carrying him to the table.

Severus set Harry down in the chair that Tim indicated, the one directly across from his. The healer did not seem bothered at all that Harry had come to him, and not to Tim. Why would the child trust _him_, of all people? Perhaps because the child had known him for a bit longer? It did not matter, not really. Severus sat down in his own seat, frowning slightly. The child looked terrified.

_Freaks do not sit at tables._ _Freaks do not eat meals. Only with Aunt Petunia. Freaks are not allowed. _He tried to push his chair away, but the stupid thing would not budge.

"Is there a problem, Harry?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy's sudden antics.

"Freaks don't sit at tables!" Harry whimpered, trying desperately to get away.

"Mr. Potter-"

"No, Harry. You are not a freak and you will eat all meals. You will always eat at the table." Tim scolded, cutting Severus off. The younger man glared at him, but the child needed to hear it from other people. Not just Severus. Or the boy would believe that it was only true with Severus. "Do you have something to add, Severus?"

"I do not want to hear you say that appalling word again, Harry. Or you will be writing lines." Severus warned, turning to gaze at the child. Albus had taken the bit of distraction to fill a plate of food for Harry and was now filling his own. "Damn it, Albus. I can do it." He hissed softly.

Albus raised an eyebrow, glancing at the small child. The boy had finally stopped trying to get away and was staring blankly at his plate. "Tim has some potions for you, Harry. Take them and then you can start eating." He remarked gently, turning back to Severus. He scooped a few more new potatoes on the younger man's plate, adding a healthy amount of green beans. He had already placed a nice size portion of baked chicken on the plate. "Do not swear, Severus." He warned softly, putting the plate it front of the young man. He glanced again at Harry. Tim was explaining the nutrition potions to the boy, before turning back to Severus. He was afraid that this young boy might cause a setback in Severus, it was possible after all. But his child was strong and hopefully would come to him first.

Severus growled under his breath, stabbing his fork into the chicken.

"Potions first, Severus." Tim ordered, glancing at the younger man. Severus merely sneered at him. "You want to be a good explain for Harry, don't you?" Tim asked causally, watching with satisfaction as the younger man quickly picked up one of the vials and drank it. A second was mixed easily with his cranberry juice. The third followed the first. Tim gave a small nod of approval, turning back to the child. He had already mixed Harry's nutrition potion into the boy's grape juice, it was just getting the child to take the other two vials, one of which was a vitamin draft and the other an appetite stimulative. Two of the three that Severus took. Severus also took a depression draft, the same potions routine for the last several years. Although if Severus would just gain another half a stone, he could safely quit the nutrition potion.

Harry obediently took both potions, which tasted a bit funny. He stared at his plate, confused. Freaks like him did not get this much food. Ever. Especially not something as expensive as meat! But the older man was watching him, even as he started on his own plate. Clearly he was expected to eat this. The doctor man clarified that quite quickly.

"Just eat as much as you can, Harry." Tim remarked softly, noting the child's confused look. He assumed, from his scan earlier, that the child was probably given little to eat or had meals withheld often.

Harry gave the tiniest nod, picking up his fork clumsily. He only really ate sandwiches. These last few days Aunt Petunia had been cooking good meals for him but that was the first time in years that he had needed to hold a fork for long periods of times. Sure, he got the occasional plate of leftovers or a good meal from time to time, but Uncle Vernon did not like him eating much, at all. The man liked him small, for some reason. But he did not want to think on that, at all. He tried to hold his fork the way Aunt had shown him this week, but it was hard to get the grip just watch. He was unaware of three sets of eyes watching his struggle.

_Damn muggles. The boy cannot even hold cutlery probably. His social skills are lacking and he flinches at the slightest movement. There is so much to teach him in just under a month. At least I had some of these skills ingrained in me. The others picked up easily from my dorm mates. But that will not be how Harry learns. We will just have to teach him. _Severus mused, taking small bites of his potato. The child did not need their pity, he just needed their love.

-x-

After supper, the four of them had moved into the living room. Albus searched a nearby bookshelf for a few moments, pulling out two children's books. Both were books used in the Wizarding class, the one for Muggle-born and Muggle-raised students, their first introduction to the wizarding world. Both books also contained lots of moving pictures. He offered the two books to the child, who took them a bit hesitantly, before moving to the chess set. Severus had already set up the pieces and it promised to be a good game.

Harry stared at the books in his hands, setting one down so that he could open the other. He flipped it open and gasped. All three men looked over at him, but the child was staring, wide-eyed, at the moving pictures. "This is wicked!" He exclaimed, forgetting himself for a moment. Albus merely chuckled. Harry started to read through the book, although it was slow going. The pictures kept distracting him.

"He'll never sleep tonight now." Severus murmured, with a hint of amusement. It was good to see that child act like, well, a child.

Tim had let the child read for awhile, doing reading of his own. His reading, however, was much more serious. He was, once again, reading over the scans that he had done on Harry. He really wanted to exam the child again and heal the older damage if he could. If he couldn't, there might be a potion that would help. He waited until the two men finished their chess game, catching Albus; eye before they could start another. He tapped his wand to the parchment, making two extra copies of it, before standing and moving to the other two men. He wordlessly handed both of them a copy, although Severus had already glanced at it. The younger man had not, however, read it thoroughly.

Albus frowned, reading silently through the first report. It was a mere summary of the injuries, instead of the long list of times and dates for each injury, the list that would need to be turned over to Wizarding Child Welfare, if they wanted to take legal action against the man. His frown deepened as he read on and he took a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I would like to run another scan on Harry, to see if any of the long lasting damage can be repaired and to check his throat. There appears to be damage there as well." Tim added quietly, watching both of the men's reactions. He had erected a silencing spell, just in case.

"Do you need help?" Severus asked briskly, flipping through the report once more. Oh he should have turned that man into an ant! And then stomped on him! Repeatedly. He took a deep breath, forcing his mind to calm and his barriers back into place.

"No, I should be alright. Are you alright?" Tim asked softly. The younger man's mask was up but his eyes betrayed him. He was angry and hurting.

"I'm fine." Severus snapped.

"Of course. I guess that's another thing we will be speaking of as soon as Harry is in bed." Tim commented dryly.

Albus raised an eyebrow at him but kept quiet. He did not trust himself to speak at the moment. "If Harry will allow it, you can run your scan in here." He muttered, glancing up briefly.

Tim merely nodded, striding out of the silencing ward, although he left it up. The two men could hear them, but Harry would not be able to hear them unless one of them took the ward down. It would keep any outbursts they had from frightening the child He approached the child slowly, summoning a chair to the side of the coach. The boy was so engrossed in his reading that he did not even notice. "Harry? Do you remember when I asked to look at your throat earlier and told you I'd do it later? Later is here." He stated gently, watching the boy.

Harry flinched, looking up. But he remembered Professor Snape's rules, to allow the healer to check him over. "Yes sir." He whispered.

"Alright Harry. Lie down on the couch, there you go." Tim helped the boy to lie down flat, quickly removing the boy's house shoes. He would prefer not to be kicked at all but it did happen from time to time. He slowly ran his wand above the child's body, letting the spell sink into the boy. With the spell starting its work, he rested a hand on the child's chest and another on his forehead. The spell would cause any damage that he had missed before to stand out. His frown deepened as his magic explored the child. He slowly moved his hand from the boy's forehead to rest gently on the child's throat. Harry flinched violent, but he started murmuring comforting nonsense to the child, adding just a drop of calming magic. If he could get a hold of that bastard...the oaf would wish that he was never born. The lining of the child's throat was scarred and the lining was thin. He could do little to fix the internal scarring, but he could encourage healing in the lining of his throat. Clearly someone had forced either a strong chemical or boiling water down this child's throat. As he had not noticed scarring in the boy's mouth early, when he had looked in the child's throat, he would assume that it had been the first. It was a miracle that this child was alive. He moved his hand down to the boy's ribs, keeping the other hand on the boy's chest. He had healed the ribs earlier, but he wanted to double-check them. His hand finally rested on the boy's stomach and he sighed. Harry's stomach lining was also rather thin and his stomach was as shrunken as Severus'. Smaller even. Severus, at least, had regular meals, even if they could not heal all the past damage to his stomach. The damage to Harry's stomach, however, was fixable, since they had caught it early. He had noticed that the boy did not eat much and this would explain why. Gradually increasing his food intake would help drastically. He strengthened the stomach lining, moving on to the boy's other organs.

Tim had been at it for an hour and if he had not been so angry, he would have been worried. That man had done serious damage to this boy! And the damage had started when Harry was only four or five. That was around the last time that he had checked in on them, actually. Petunia had assured him that everything was alright and Harry had been a healthy, bubbly child. Petunia had wanted Harry, had asked to take him in. She had mentioned to him that his visits made her husband uncomfortable, as he did not like magic. He should have left her a way to contact him, he had figured she'd just use the muggle post. But perhaps she had not because she was scared. Albus understood that but to let the child live in harm! It was outrageous. If he had known they would have taken Harry sooner. The boy had not even needed to grow up in the muggle world. He was famous in their world, yes, but so were the other handful of babies that survived Death Eater attacks. A roof fell on Harry, caused by a shield spell that accidental magic had torn from the baby. He had not been killed and his bit of early magic had made him noteworthy once. But he was just a normal boy. Or he should be, instead he had an abused, hurting child on his hand, one who was inclined to harm himself. He would have to add wards to Harry's room as well, ones that would detect the boy's type of harm. After the child had spent a week in the Hogwarts infirmary as an infant, to recover from magical exhaustion, he should have kept the boy. But Petunia had wanted him and he knew that the woman loved the boy. He did not pity the child, but he knew it would be a long, difficult struggle for all of them. Especially the two young men in his care.

Tim sighed, finally helping Harry sit up. He canceled the silencing spell around the other tow men, gazing at the small boy. "It will take a while, but with regular meals and a potions regime to help, you will be at a healthy weight." Tim remarked quietly. The boy merely nodded, staring at his lap.

Albus stood slowly, walking over to them. "I believe it is time for a bath and bed." He remarked quietly. "Come Harry, I will show you where you bath things will be kept." He ordered quietly. The boy hesitated but followed silently.

-x-

Tim turned to Severus, raising an eyebrow at the young man. He could tell that he was angry, it was time for them to talk. "I believe we need to have a discussion. We can retire to my office or your bedroom, your choice." He remarked quietly, sternly.

Severus growled at the man, leveling him with his best glare. He would rather not have this conversation, but he knew that he would not be getting out of it. No sense delaying it any longer. "My room is fine." He snapped. He preferred his room, actually. It made him feel like it was less of a therapy session and more of a chat between friends. Although at times it did make him feel like naughty child.

Tim raised in eyebrow at the younger man, standing and waving his hand for the younger man to lead the way. He was not going to chase Severus all over this house just to have this conversation. And although Severus had not run from him in a few years, he was not going to tempt fate tonight. Severus growled under his breath, stalking up the flight of stairs and down the hall to his room. He swung the door open, leaving it open behind him. Tim followed at a slower pace, frowning at the young man. He shut the door gently and raised a silencing spell. It would not do if Severus started yelling and scared the child. "Calm your temper Severus. I could do without the attitude" He remarked dryly.

Severus glared at him but gracefully sat down in his armchair, watching as Tim conjured another. "I...apologize. Harry's situation is quite...unsettling." He replied sarcastically.

"I understand that Severus. It is upsetting to see what the child has gone through. You are doing well with him, he seems to be trusting you." Tim replied quietly.

Severus merely rolled his eyes, gazing off into the middle distance. "I'm fine, Tim."

"No, you are not. Harry's situation is unsettling, Severus. I'm aware that learning of Harry's abuse might bring back memories of your own." Tim replied quietly, calm still.

"I-it doesn't matter! There is a child who needs your help, so leave me alone!" Severus snarled.

"No."

"I don't need help, Tim! I've been fine for eight years!" Severus snarled, jumping up and pacing around the room.

Tim merely raised an eyebrow at him, propping his elbows on his knees and leaning forward.

"I am fine! I am not harming myself nor am I suicidal. I. Am. Fine!" He snapped.

"Stop."

Severus came to a stop, glaring at the older man.

"Sit down, Severus." He ordered sternly. The boy sneered at him but dropped gracelessly into his chair. "Now, I want you to listen to me. Understand?" The boy merely glared at him, giving a brisk nod. "Severus?"

"Yes sir." He hissed.

"Thank you. You might not be actively harming yourself and you might not be suicidal, but that does _not_ make you fine. You still have your memories, Severus. We both know that extensive abuse of your students bothers you. Harder still, he is the child of one of your friends. Worse even, his abuse so closely resembles some of your own. You found the child in the wardrobe. You were locked in a wardrobe as a boy, a cellar as a teenager. And then you take your anger and pain out on the walls, harming yourself in the process. I know you Severus. I know when you are hurting. You cannot lie to me, you should know that by know. I need you to let me help you. Because Harry will need you Severus. Harry will need all of us. Talking does not make you weak, Severus. Talk to me." Tim remarked quietly, meeting the boy's eyes.

"I don't mean to be difficult, Tim." Severus looked down, to stare at his lap.

"Of course you do." Tim teased.

Severus smirked for a moment, before closing his eyes. He did not want to do this. He needed to be strong. Wanted to be strong. But Tim had always said that he would be stronger for it. "It does bother me. Harry's abuse. It bothers me much more than any of the other abuse I've discovered over the years. I might be able to relate to it Tim, but I should have control over my past by now! I've been talking about it for eight years!" He growled.

"Yes, you have. You have also healed greatly over those eight years. But you are still habouring some of it Severus. It does not matter how long you talk about it for, but that you do. One day, perhaps, you will be able to think back on those days or talk about it without getting upset or angry. That might never happen. You might be dealing with those demons the rest of your life, just as Albus has some that still haunt him. It has gotten better, you have fewer nightmares and although your eating could improve, you are much better than when I first met you. Not as angry. But you are still hurting." Tim replied gently.

Severus sighed. "I know, Tim. I also know where you are and I'm still scheduled with you once a week during the school year. I will get there."

"I know you will. Now, what is this I heard about Harry's uncle being a lizard?" Tim asked sharply, changing the subject. He knew that Severus would speak with him when he was ready. Not before.

"Damn child. He attacked the child and threatened me. I reacted." Severus shrugged, biting back a smirk.

"A lizard, Severus? I told you to do nothing rash." Tim frowned at the younger man.

"It was not rash. It was protection." Severus barked. "Should have been an ant." He muttered under his breath. Unfortunately for him, Tim managed to catch that, just barely.

"Severus Albus Snape!" Tim scolded, furrowing his brow at the younger man.

"You want to hunt him down too." Severus merely shrugged. What was the worst Tim could do, really?

"Yes I did. But I controlled my temper. You did not. Your temper is going to get you into serious trouble young man. Restriction, for a week." Tim ordered firmly, raising an eyebrow when the younger man started to protest. "I would not test me, Severus." He warned quietly.

"Fine." Severus scowled, folding his arms. He did not have to be happy about this. Just his lucky to get put on restriction in the middle of summer with a child in the house.

"I'm sure you remember the rules quite well, but I shall remind you. You are, basically, grounded. You may brew, but no experiments. In bed by ten, nightly. You may not leave this house without Albus or I. If you must leave to do your duties at Hogwarts, you are to come straight back. No side trips. You are to check in with me daily. Until you can regain control over your temper, I also want you to mediate daily. No changing forms unless necessary. Understood?" Tim asked briskly.

"Yes sir." Severus muttered darkly.

"It is only for a week, Severus. You, however, will also have to explain why you are on restriction this time to Albus." Tim added quietly.

"Fine."

"Severus...we do not set rules to punish you, or to treat you like a child. We set rules because we care about you. I know you know that. Albus and I love you, we would both be very...displeased if your temper ended you up in Azkaban or worse. " Tim's tone was gentle, honest. He would have been very upset if this child ended up hurt or imprisoned because of his temper. Severus was his patient, yes, but he was also a friend of sorts. A child that Tim had been taking care of for years.

Severus merely nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. Sometimes Tim really could make him feel like a naughty child.

"Now, if there is nothing else you wish to speak of, I think it is time that you get ready for bed. Harry should be going to sleep soon, if you want to wish the child goodnight." Tim stated, moving to stand.

"I shall." Severus muttered, standing also. He wished he was still young enough to not feel embarrassed about needing something. But he wasn't.

Tim raised an eyebrow at the young man, realizing his dilemma with a chuckle. He took the decision away from the younger man, opening his arms in silent welcome. Severus might have most people fooled with his hard exterior, but the young man was still in need of love and comfort.

Severus hesitated for a moment but stepped forward cautiously. Tim merely wrapped an arm around him, pulling him into a hug. He stiffened briefly but quickly relaxed. He had realized, over the years, how magical and healing a hug could really be. After a difficult day, although he might deserve a scolding, though he would never admit it to Tim or Albus, all he really wanted was a hug. Both of the older men had seemed to realize that quite quickly several years ago. The hug lasted for all of a minute or two before he pulled away, giving a small nod of thanks. Tim squeezed his shoulder with a small smile, opening the door and dropping the spell. It was quite time to say goodnight to Harry.

-x-

Both men stopped in the doorway, listening to Albus' rich voice reading aloud a children's tale. The young child looked even younger, freshly showered and small in the large bed. He was listening eagerly, taking in every detail of the story. This was a child who had rarely, if ever, been treated as a child. Been read to and tucked in at night.

Albus finished the tale, smiling down at the yawning lad. He marked his place, setting the book on the bedside table. "I think that is enough stories for tonight. We do want to have some for tomorrow night, Harry." He teased gently. He had noticed the two men at the doorway, nodding to them now. "I do believe that Tim and Severus wish to say good night." He added. The boy looked over at the older men, shock written clearly on his face.

Severus stepped forward first, reaching over to gently ruffle the boy's messy hair. The child flinched but relaxed quickly, grinning ruefully up at him. "Sleep well, Harry." He drawled, giving the child a small half-smile before going back to his own room.

Tim smiled at the young boy, brushing the hair away from his face. He let just a touch of calming magic enter the boy, enough that he would fall asleep quickly. "Goodnight Harry." He turned, heading back downstairs leaving Albus once more with the child.

Harry gazed warily at the headmaster, but he was sleepy and he felt safe. At least a little bit. Perhaps he wouldn't sleep in the wardrobe tonight after all.

"Alright child, lay down now." Albus ordered softly, moving the covers a bit so the child could lie completely down, instead of sitting up. Harry quickly did as he was told, too sleepy to protest. He didn't really feel exhausted, but tired. "That's a good boy." Albus murmured, tucking the covered securely around the boy. He kissed the boy's forehead as Harry's eyelids started to flutter close. "Good night, child." He whispered, dimming the lights. He left a small ball of light in a corner, so that the child could see if he needed to go to the bathroom or woke up scared. He turned to leave, casting one final alarm spell, so that he would know if the child had nightmares. He knew that Tim had done the same, but it was best to be prepared. Now to see to his son.

Severus groaned, looking up from where he was reading. He had been lying on his bed with a potions book, dressed in his pajamas. Tim said that he had to be in bed by ten, not asleep. The knock on his door was surprising, but not entirely unwelcome. "Come in."He grumbled.

Albus opened the door to Severus' room, stepping inside with a frown. There were very few reasons that Severus would be in bed this early. The man could easily be exhausted but usually they would have to haul him upstairs. He wasn't sick, so he must had done something that Tim disproved of. "Bed so soon, Severus?" He asked, arching an eyebrow.

Severus closed his eyes briefly. It was always a bit embarrassing to admit to Albus, his mentor...hell, his father, what he had done that Tim was unhappy about. "Yes well. I'm apparently on restriction for a week. For losing my temper and turning the oaf into a gecko." He drawled.

Albus bit back a chuckle, but his eyes still twinkled. He had a feeling there was a bit more than that, but he would ask Tim later. "I see. Then you should be sleeping, not reading." He remarked dryly.

Severus merely shrugged, turning back to his book.

Albus stepped forward and took the book away, marking Severus' place with a garnish conjured bookmark. "Up." He ordered softly. Severus groaned but obeyed, standing up so that Albus could pull the covers down. "Lie down, Severus."

"Albus..."

"Severus." Albus warned quietly. He knew that although the young man might find it mortifying sometimes, he did still need comfort and he liked to be tucked after he was punished, or while he was on restriction. Two very different things, actually.

Severus grumbled some very unflattering things under his breath, but laid down on the bed all the same.

Albus smiled fondly down at the younger man, pulling the blankets up and tucking the younger man securely into his bed. He leaned down and kissed the younger man's forehead, grinning as his eyes stared to close. He knew that his boy had a tiring day, it was only to be expected that he would fall asleep so much like Harry did. "Goodnight, my son." He whispered, noxing the lights. He did leave a small light near the door, so that Severus was not in total darkness. An alert charm to let him know if the young man needed him casted, and he turned to go. But stopped quite suddenly.

"Goodnight, dad." Came a quiet, sleepy whisper from the bed.

Albus smiled into the darkness. How he loved hearing that one single word. "I love you, my son." He whispered to the night, stepping out into the hallway and shutting the door. One healing young man and one hurting child. He knew that he would do what he did best for both boys. He would love them.


	6. Nightmares

_A/N: Do not own. Shorter than average. But for a reason. This is really just one scene, or set of scenes. Time doesn't change much here, it's literally about an hour and a half, start to finish, as far as time goes. It is also rather...cute in parts. Harry has a nightmare. And Severus hunts monsters. Enjoy. Italics are thoughts! And reviews make me happy!  
_

_~Case  
_

_-x-  
_

It was not unexpected, the alarm charm alerting him that his newest patient was having nightmares. What was unexpected, however, was seeing the child scream but hearing nothing. Tim observed the boy for a moment before wandlessly canceling the silencing charm. It was a bit more than accidental magic. He was willing to wager that the spell was raised ever time the child fell asleep, even if it was not something that Harry realized. Defense mechanism, most certainly. He sighed, striding over to the bed. "Harry, you are safe. Wake up child. You are at the cottage." He murmured, gently grabbing hold of the thrashing child. Now that he could hear the child, he could easily guess what the nightmare contained.

"No please! I'll be good. Uncle please!" Harry whimpered, fighting the arms that easily gathered him up, still locked in his night terrors.

Tim held the struggling child, who still thrashed on his lap. He started rubbing calming circles into the boy's back, murmuring nonsensical words into the boy's ear. "You are safe Harry. Your uncle is not here. He will not hurt you child." He finally stated sternly, still trying to calm the struggling child.

Harry groaned, there was a hand rubbing his back. Which was odd. Aunt Petunia had only done that when he was little, he knew she could not hear his nightmares anymore. No one could. Aunt Petunia...The little boy gasped, opening his eyes. He started to struggle again, trying desperately" T to get off the healer's lap.

"Settle Harry." Tim ordered softly. The boy instantly stilled. "It's okay Harry. You are safe now."

Harry stared at his bed, not meeting the kindly man's eyes. Uncle would have beaten him for waking him up. But the healer man was holding him and rubbing his back, rocking him slowly. Like he was a child! But he wasn't a child. He hadn't been a child in a very long time. Uncle had told him so. Only good boys could be children and he wasn't a good boy, was he? "Sorry." He whispered, ducking his head.

"For what, Harry?"

"Waking you." The boy squirmed slightly, desperately trying to fight his urge to curl up against the man. _Freaks don't get comfort. Freaks don't cry._

"You did not wake me, Harry. Would you like to tell me about your nightmare? It will make you feel better." He replied gently, watching the boy carefully.

Harry rapidly shook his head. He could not speak of it. It wasn't allowed.

"That's alright Harry. You don't have to if you don't want to." Tim sighed,but he had known that it was likely, at least for the first few times. He hugged the boy tight, knowing that while the child fought him, he really did need comfort. "Do you think you can sleep?" He asked softly. The child merely shook his head.

_NO! Please don't leave me! Please! _Harry begged silently. He did not want to be left alone. The monsters came out then. It would be dark again. He didn't want to sleep!

Tim merely continued to rock the small child, glancing toward the doorway. Albus held up a tray and he nodded. He had sensed Severus somewhere in the background, but he had disappeared. "It's alright Harry. You don't have to go back to sleep right away. What are you scared of child?" Tim asked gently, watching Albus conjure a table and set the tray down. It merely held one cup of hot chocolate, perfect to help scare away the nightmares.

"Monsters." Harry whispered, tightening his hold on the man. If he let go, Tim would disappear, he just knew it.

Albus settled into a conjured armchair, wanting desperately to gather the child into his arms. "Here Harry. This hot chocolate is designed specifically to keep monsters away." He remarked softly. The child flinched, but slowly turned toward him. Albus held the cup, spelled to be spill-proof and not too hot for small hands, to the young boy.

Harry hesitated, staring at the cup. Only good boys got hot chocolate. He had never had it, so he assumed it was true. He was not good, after all. Just a worthless freak. But the headmaster man seemed to expect him to take it. He reached for it slowly, waiting to see if the man would yank it back but he did not. Harry took the cup, quickly clasping it to his chest. He didn't want the man changing his mind. He straighten up a bit, resting his back against Tim's chest. The healer man loosened his hold a bit more, but still managed to keep his arms around him. Harry slowly lifted the cup to his mouth, watching the older man warily. But when Albus did not move, he blew across it, taking a slow sip of the dark liquid. His face automatically lit up. "This is good!" He grinned into his hot chocolate.

Tim smiled down at the little boy, feeling his heart clench just a little. The child had clearly never had hot chocolate before. _How many other experiences has Harry missed?_ He wondered, squeezing the boy's shoulder. His eyes met Albus' for a moment, the older man looked like he was trying desperately to control his own emotions. Tim turned his eyes back to the child, catching the boy's wrist so that he would stop gulping the liquid. "I'm not taking it from you Harry. But you need to slow down or you will make yourself sick." He explained gently.

Harry turned his fearful eyes back to his cup. He had been afraid that the man's kindness had run out. But no, he was just worried about _him. _Why would anyone worry about him? He did take much slower sips, letting the chocolate warm his belly. It was making him feel better, the headmaster was right. He never knew that chocolate had that power. It was almost like...magic.

Tim watched the child as the chocolate treat made him sleepy and relaxed. He knew that it had been pure hot chocolate and for good reason. He knew where Severus had gone now. The younger man was standing in the doorway, holding a small vial, one that he recognized quite well. The drink was almost gone and he wanted to get the child back into bed before much longer. He did have to go to work, briefly, in the morning. Well, it was morning now, actually. But quite a few hours before he wanted the child up. "Feel better, Harry?" He asked softly.

Harry drained the rest of the cup, nodding. The man would leave him now. He just knew it. "Yes sir." He whispered, fighting back his tears.

"What's wrong Harry?" Tim asked with a frown. His magic was itching to give the child a calming feed. He had felt that spike in anxiety and fear. But the boy just shook his head, looking down.

"He's afraid that you will leave him." Severus drawled from the doorway.

Harry gasped, looking up. The professor was standing there, watching him like a hawk. But he suddenly felt safer. No monsters would dare come around with the professor nearby. He knew this, he just couldn't explain how he knew it.

"Ah. Why don't you want us to leave Harry?" Tim inquired gently, meeting Severus' gaze with a nod. It did make sense, he had just been hoping that the child would tell him that. But he also knew it was not a logical hope. Not just yet anyway.

"Because the monsters will come out! And they'll hurt me." Harry whispered, staring at his hands.

"Hm. Well, why don't we have Severus check for monsters? He is very good at finding them." Tim suggested, brushing the child's hair out of his face. He raised an eyebrow at Severus, who merely nodded.

"Would you like me to check for monsters, Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, his tone as sharp as normal, but dead serious. He knew what Tim had been implying of course, but he also had done monster checks for some of his more fragile first years.

"Please, sir." Harry replied softly, not looking up at the older man.

"Watch, Harry." Tim instructed softly. When the child finally looked up, Severus started to move, lighting his wand tip silently. Tim watched with amusement in his eyes as Severus first opened the wardrobe, shining his wand inside and poking the contents.

"Hm. No monsters here." He announced, moving to open the drawers. As much as he would deny it, he actually did not mind doing this for his students, his children. It was a performance that he could to well. And hopefully it would have the desired effect. He poked around the drawers for a moment, holding his wand with the other hand. "I say, Mr. Potter, I do believe that these are socks." He drawled, holding up a pair of said socks. The muffled sound from Tim's chest made him smirk. Good, a little bit more then and perhaps this child would be giggling and not cringing at the shadows. He moved from the dresser to the desk, prodding through it rather fast. "No monsters on the desk." He announced as serious as possible.

Harry's eyes followed Severus, still in Tim's arms. He liked the comfort and his professor was even a bit funny! It made him feel safer. If the professor said there were no monsters, he would believe him. His professor was scaring the monsters away!

Severus stopped at the bookshelves, his back to the child. He shone his wand-light on every shelf, frowning when he spotted the stuffed dragon. Perhaps the child would sleep better with it, most children did. "No monsters here. Although..." He trailed off dramatically, picking up the dragon. "I did find this lovely dragon. I wonder who he belongs to." He mused, turning so the child could see the toy. He put his ear to the dragon's snout, pulling a thoughtful expression. "Hmm, yes. He says he belongs to a messy-haired, green-eyed boy and asks that I locate his owner. Apparently this little dragon is scared of the dark and wants to sleep with his owner. Now I wonder who that might be?" Severus teased, gazing at each of them in turn. "Let's see, Albus has blue eyes and gray hair, Tim has brown eyes and hair...so that leaves...Ah yes, Mr. Potter. I do believe that you have black hair and green eyes, don't you?" Severus turned toward the child, the dragon in his outstretched hands.

They boy's eyes had lit up and he was trying desperately to not giggle. He realized quickly, at Severus' raised eyebrow, that the older man expected an answer. "Yes sir, I do." He giggled.

"Good. Then you can keep him with you, to keep the dragon safe of course." Severus replied seriously, trying to keep from smiling at the child. He offered the dragon to the boy, who instantly grabbed it, hugging it to his chest. Yes, it had been a good decision, even if he had looked ridiculously silly. "Now then, I have found no monsters. Are you satisfied, Mr. Potter?" He asked sternly. The little boy hesitated, looking at him over the top of his dragon. _Have I forgotten somewhere? _He mused, watching those green eyes widen.

"Yes sir." Harry muttered, looking down. The Professor had checked the wardrobe, the desk and dresser, and his bookshelves. His trunk was locked, so what was missing? Harry stared at his bed for a moment and then gasped suddenly. "But sir! You forgot..." He bit his lip, staring at his hands. It was not his place to correct an adult. He was just a freak, he could live with the monsters under the bed, right? He shuddered at the thought, biting his lip again.

"Yes?" Severus drawled, raising an eyebrow at the child.

"Under the bed." Harry whispered, cringing. The healer rubbed his back soothingly and started to rock him again.

"Severus is not angry that you reminded him. Are you, Severus?" Albus remarked quietly. Tim had his hands full, literally, at the moment, murmuring soothing words to the child who suddenly looked terrified once more.

"Of course not. I'm glad you reminded me, Harry. Under the bed is quite a scary place." Severus replied, letting a small frown grace his lips. The child wasn't looking at him again, which was fine at the moment. _The child is so frustrating, scared at the slightest hint that he might have done something wrong! We would never hurt him, and yet he is terrified of us. Of everything. This is going to be a long journey._ "Mr. Potter, would you like to occupy me in checking under the bed? It is scary and I would feel...safer if you checked with me." He offered, trying uselessly to fight back his sarcastic tone. But it was part of him, the child would just have to get used to it. His first years did quickly and many came to find humour in it. Hopefully, this child would too.

"Me, sir?" Harry asked softly, looking up finally.

"Do you know another Harry Potter?" This time he could not help the sarcastic drawl nor the raised eyebrow.

The boy stared at him openly for a moment, before shaking his head. "No sir." He whispered. He was scared to look under the bed. He rarely slept in a bed and under the bed always scared him. He knew there were monsters under there, just waiting to grab his ankles and drag him away to their den to eat. If the professor was scared, then how could he do it? He was just Harry, a good for nothing freak. And he was terrified of that space under there. So terrified. Harry bit his lip again, unable to stop the silent tear that ran down his cheek.

Tim placed a finger under the boy's chin, pulling his face up so that the child was looking at him. He gently wiped away the boy's tear, keeping one arm wrapped around the child. "Tell us what's wrong Harry?"

Harry tried to look down but Tim kept his hand firmly in place. "Too scared." He whispered.

"Ah. Hm, well I have an idea then. What if all _four_ of us looked under the bed together. Three wands means more light. Would that be better? Since Severus is also too scared to do it alone?" Tim asked with a small smile, ignoring the glare that Severus was shooting at him. Of course he knew that the younger man was not really scared, but it was a good idea to help Harry face his fears, and perhaps he would feel better knowing that he wasn't the only one afraid of monsters. He wasn't, not really. Except Severus' monsters did not live under the bed and were perhaps a bit more frightening than those of the child's imagination. Harry had monsters like those too, he was sure, but tonight was not the time to address that. It was already three in the morning, the child needed sleep. Green eyes met his and the boy finally gave a hesitant nod.

Severus sighed, shaking his head slightly. He was _not _afraid of monsters under the bed. He had used that before with a few students whose fears did not get better and now he was going to have to crouch on the floor with the old coot and the infuriating healer. At least there was some justice to it. His knees were much younger than theirs. They would probably have to get Albus off the floor! He smirked slightly, turning his gaze back to the child. He causally reached over and picked the child up, so that Tim could stretch and stand.

Tim merely nodded to him, getting to his feet with a groan. He had been in the same position, more or less, for an hour. Granted, he had held patients for much longer stretches of time, and they usually weight much more than the little eleven year old, he was still slightly stiff. Harry had flinched when Severus first picked him up, but seemed to relax quite quickly, especially when he became aware that his feet were nowhere near the bed. Tim turned to Albus, offered the older man a hand up. He took it and gave a slight nod.

"Alright Severus, Harry. Tim and I shall go first, then Severus can turn his glare to the underside of the bed and scare any monsters off. He will have to set you down Harry." Albus stated firmly, watching the black-haired boy who clung like a monkey to Severus. Oh the times he wished he had a camera!

Severus glanced down at the child, who gave a small timid nod. "Hold on to your dragon Harry. He will keep you safe from any of those monsters." He whispered to the boy, setting him down a few feet back from the bed. Both Tim and Albus crouched, wands held at the ready. It was really just for show though. Both knew that they would not find anything. But Harry needed to feel safe. The boy had hidden behind him, peering curiously around him as the older two men crept forward, turning lit wands on the space under the bed. He turned, offering his hand to the child. Harry hesitated for a moment but took it, keeping his hand grasped firmly in Severus'.

"No monsters, Harry! "Tim called, beckoning the two younger men forward. Severus was leading a very reluctant child by the hand, the poor boy was squeezing his dragon to death.

Severus crouched next to the bed, lighting his wand again. He pointed under the bed, casting it much stronger, so that light touched every little nook and space. "Hm...Nope, no monsters, Mr. Potter. Go ahead." He barked, watching the boy slide up beside them, hesitating before crouching down between him and Albus.

Harry turned frightened eyes on the area under the bed and suddenly frowned at it. There was nothing there! No monsters. Perhaps the headmaster was right and the professor had scared the monsters off with his glare! But the professor wasn't scary, not really. He just used his glare to show his emotions. He wasn't sure whether that was good or bad, but if the professors and the healer scared off the monsters, he was happy. Well, as happy as he could be. "The monsters are gone." He whispered, grinning at the men.

Tim smiled at the boy, standing and helping Albus off the floor. "Yes they are. Do you think you can sleep now Harry? We will stay until you fall asleep, of course." He stated gently. The little boy nodded, standing easily from his crouch. Severus took a moment longer to stand again, reaching down to lift the boy back into his bed. Honestly, the bed was nearly too high for Harry to climb into. They would either have to fix it or constantly be picking the child up, which was not, perhaps, a bad thing.

Severus pulled out the potion once more, after setting Harry back on his bed. The boy had to be sitting up to drink the potion, but he would probably fall asleep instantly. "Alright Harry. This potion will help you sleep and keep the bad dreams away. I need you to drink it." He ordered quietly, uncorking it and holding it out to the child. Albus had moved to pull the blankets back over the boy's legs, so that they would not have to lift him to get him back under the covers.

Harry hesitated, eyeing the bottle. The medicine that the professor gave him earlier had helped his tummy, so he really had no reason to doubt the dark man. He took the bottle slowly, tilting it to his lips. Harry tossed it back, drinking the small vial quickly. It did not taste horrible, like medicines usually did.

"That's a good boy. Now lie back, Harry. Good boy." Albus murmured, pulling the covers once more over the young child. He tucked the child back in, even as the boy's eyelids closed. The three men waited for a few minutes in silence, to make sure that the potion had taken hold, before exiting the room.

-x-

Tim closed Harry's door gently, turning to the other two men. Severus was leaning against his own door and Albus looked every one of his years tonight. "That went well." He stated softly, sighing.

"Hmpf." Severus snorted, shaking his head. He wouldn't exactly call that well. At all. What went well there?

"He trusted us enough to let the two of you comfort him. To believe your word, Severus, that there were no monsters in his room. To follow us toward the 'scary' place under his bed. He is starting to feel safe here." Albus replied quietly, frowning at his child.

"I gave him a nightmare draft, hopefully that will keep him asleep until a decent hour." Severus drawled, turning to enter his own room. "He is starting to trust, but he has a long way to go." He added quietly, slipping inside and shutting the door behind him.

The two older men knew that he was right, turning to head to their own rooms to get a little bit of sleep before they had to be up once more.


	7. Love?

_A/N- Yes it took me forever to write and yes it is a bit of a tearjerker. And yes, misspellings are probably here, but that happened when you cannot move the wrist on one hand. A sprained wrist, work, and exhausted and delayed this story, but here it is. I do not own. Non-canon, completely AU, lots of cuddling! -x's are scene breaks, Italics are often thoughts!_

_~Case  
_

-x-

Severus glared into his cup of coffee, wishing for once that he could have slept in this morning. But no, he had work to do for Hogwarts and lesson plans to create. He had a child to look after, and yet that child was the reason he was exhausted. Tim had fared no better, the older man had already left to tend to business at his practice. Albus was sitting across from him with his own strong cup of coffee, blearily staring at the morning Prophet. He was not actually sure if the man was reading or merely staring blankly at the rubbish paper. Severus glanced toward the timepiece, running his hand through his hair. Merlin, was he tired! It was just past eight now, the dreamless sleep would keep the child asleep for at least another two hours. Well at least one of them could have a lie-in this morning, it did give them plenty of time to work and to agree on rules for the child.

-x-

A few hours later, Severus looked up from his paperwork. It was summer, there was always paperwork to be down for the school. A small tingling feeling in the back of his mind alerted him to the fact that the child was finally awake. It was nearly noon. He set his parchment aside, standing and striding into the kitchen. He debated briefly whether he should go up to the child, but he would give the boy time to wake up completely and come down on his own. Until then, he could start lunch for the three of them. Tim had floo'd an hour ago to mention that he would done with work and home for lunch. Thankfully, the healer did not have any serious patients, besides Harry, at the moment. So he could easily stay with them, only having to visit his practice a few times a week. Severus glanced down at the sleeping pig, moving to fix a dish for Maple too.

-x-

Harry groaned, opening his eyes. His throat hurt, like always, but he felt well rested. He really did not want to get up but his bladder was screaming at him. He grabbed for his glasses and stumbled out of his room and into the nearest washroom. A few minutes later, after splashing water on his face and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he walked much slower back into his room. He gazed into his wardrobe and frowned. He had no idea what to wear, he was not sure what kind of chores he would have to do here. There was not really a lawn, although he had seen a small garden on his brief tour yesterday evening. Perhaps they wanted him to clean inside the house? But all his old clothes were gone, the professor had gotten rid of them. His new clothes were nice and surely they would not want him to dirty them? Or maybe they did. He just didn't know. There were more clothes in this wardrobe than before, though. Someone had placed causal clothes in there, shirts and trousers for times when he was not at school, he supposed. With a sigh, he finally grabbed a pair of trousers and a random black shirt. He unfolded the shirt and gasped at it. There was a silver animated dragon on the front, and it burped fire! He grinned briefly but quickly sighed. This shirt could not be for him, he was a freak. Freaks did not get shirts like these. Harry sadly folded the shirt and placed it back into the closet. He removed a light purple collared shirt and tugged it over his head instead. It was not as cool as the other but at least it was purple. Finally dressed, he trotted downstairs to see what his daily chores would be. He had over slept and he knew that he would be punished for it. Best to get it out of the way and start working, else wise he knew he would be in serious trouble.

Severus turned from the stove at the sound of the very light footsteps coming into the kitchen. _Children should not be this quiet._ He mused, turning critical eyes on the boy who stood in the doorway, eyes downcast. "Good morning Harry. Or rather, good afternoon. " He drawled, turning back to the stove.

Harry flinched, staring at his feet. He knew it, he knew that they would be angry. Although the professor did not sound angry but he had overslept. Of course they would be angry! He wasn't quite sure if he was allowed to ask questions or not, but he needed to know what to do and the professor did not seem to remember. He bit back a sigh, glancing toward Maple. How he would love to play with the pig again today, but he knew that he had work to do. "What are my chores, sir?" He rasped softly, not daring to speak much louder. It didn't help that his throat still ached, but then, he knew it would.

Severus turned to face the boy, raising an eyebrow. "Does your throat hurt, Harry?" He asked sharply, filling a glass with ice water. The boy did not even look at him, he just shifted uncomfortable. _How much more trouble would I really get into if I went back and dealt with that muggle? Even if Albus was displeased, it would greatly make me, at least, feel better. _

Harry stared at his feet, knowing better than to answer the trick question. It had to be a trick, why would the professor care about that? Shouldn't he be working by now? He knew he was in trouble and answering would only make his punishment worse. He flinched and jerked backwards when a hand gently grasped his chin, lifting his eyes upwards.

"Kindly look at me, Mr. Potter." Severus drawled, crouching in front of the child. When frightened green eyes finally met his, he sighed. "You are not in trouble, child. If you do not tell me when you are hurt, I cannot make it better." His brisk tone was a tad softer than normal, not as harsh as it could be.

Harry stared at him for a moment before directing his eyes downward. He could not duck his head but that did not mean that he had to meet the Professor's eyes. He knew better! "Yes sir, sorry sir." He rasped hoarsely. His throat really did burn but he would not complain.

"Drink this, Harry. It is water."The older man held out the glass, spelled to be spill-proof, waiting patiently for the child to take it. Harry finally did, every movement hesitant. Once the boy had hold of the glass he stood, turning back to the stove. "When you are done with the water, you may wake Maple. It is time for her lunch. When she is eating, however, I want you to sit at the table. She can be quite...defensive of her food." He intoned, stirring the pot of macaroni once more. He glanced at the child, who was slowly sipping his water, before turning his attention back to the lunch the Tim would surely approve of. Not that he, himself, would be eating it. Macaroni and cheese, hot dogs, and salad. Hm, well he _could_ eat the salad. It was the prefect food for a child, especially one as underweight as the Potter boy. The boy who had set down the empty glass and was now tickling the pig. _Merlin help us._

Tim stood in the doorway of the kitchen, surveying the scene in front of him. The child was with Maple and Severus was cooking. Or rather, the young man was glaring at the food as if it had personally offended him. He glanced at the meal, not as high carb as he would like, for both boys, but good enough, before turning his attention to the young boy. "Afternoon Severus, Harry." He remarked calmly, smiling down at the large pig that had sudden;y noticed him and was now nudging him. "Hello Maple. I see Severus has prepared your meal." He greeted fondly, crouching to scratch the pig behind her ears. He glanced toward the boy and then make to the pig. Maple was territorial and, although he doubted that she would purposefully harm Harry, there was always a chance of accidents. "Come on Maple, you can eat outside today and graze for a bit." He murmured softly, taking the bowl from the counter and leading the pig from the room.

Harry sighed, glancing warily at the table. Freaks weren't suppose to sit on furniture. But they had let him last night, hadn't they? He was bad though, he hadn't gotten up early enough and the Professor had been forced to cook, something the man seemed to hate, if his glares were anything to go by. He knew he wouldn't get to eat today but he felt really lonely now that his only friend was gone. The healer was back though, and watching him.

Severus flicked his wand at the pots and pans, causing them to arrange themselves on the table. Three place settings quickly followed. He glanced at Tim, eyes flicking toward the child briefly. The older man seemed to understand, giving a brief nod of his own before placing a series of potions by two of the plates. "Wash your hands Harry." Severus ordered, glancing toward the boy. His shirt was not exactly a play shirt, even though he knew for a fact that both Tim and Albus had gotten the boy more play clothes. The child merely glanced at him and then at the sink. He sighed, conjuring a small stool. The boy was quite small for eleven, his head did not even reach the counters. That would prove to be a problem for some of his classes, especially Potions. Well, he had a solution for that already in place as there had been quite a few short students over the years.

Harry glanced at the tall dark-haired man before turning his eyes on the step-stool. It was not the same as the one Aunt Petunia had bought him but it would work quite well. He slowly stepped on it, testing his weight before leaning across the counter to wash his hands. He did not quite understand why he needed to wash his hands if they were just going to get dirty again but he knew better than to argue. He scrubbed his hands for several moments before turning the water off. He jumped down from the stool and flinched backwards when a hand towel was held out to him. Towels were not for good for nothing freaks, not at all. He hesitated briefly before wiping his hands quickly on the towel and scurrying backwards.

_ Merlin help us._ Severus raised an eyebrow at the child, returning the towel to its hook. He needed strong tea if he was to manage this child. He moved away from the boy, giving him the space that he desired. "Come Mr. Potter. It is lunch time." He drawled, gesturing to a chair. The boy gulped and looked up at him with frightened eyes. Clearly he expected to be hit or worse.

Harry eyes, wide with confusion, flitted between the two men. The healer man had moved to the table and was filling one plate with food. The professor was watching his with sharp eyes. He knew that he needed to correct the two men, else wise he would just get into more trouble. He knew very well that he was not allowed food if he did not complete his chores, thank you very much. He did not want them to get angry at him for tricking them. Aunt Petunia would feed him before he did his chores, but he knew that was so he would have more strength and besides, these men were not Aunt Petunia. They were men and men did not care for whelps like him. No sir, they just hurt freaks as they were suppose to. But hadn't the professor said that he wasn't a freak? And the healer man? Well maybe they were just confused, but he, Harry, knew the truth. "But sir, I didn't do my chores. I slept late, so I don't gets food." Harry reminded quietly, staring at his feet. And now they would beat him, because they would remember how bad and freakish he was. Or worse, they'd send him back to uncle. He resolved, then, to be the very best he could be and do his chores perfectly so that he would not have to go back to uncle. When his words were met with a deadly silence, he finally peaked up through his fringe, frowning slightly at the two men. Neither were looking at him, rather they were staring at each other. The healer finally turned warm brown eyes to the child, even as the dark man stalked from the room. Uh-oh, he was in for it now!

"Harry." The soft word caused the boy's head to jerk up. Tim sighed, this never became easier, not at all. "Whatever rules you are following do not apply here. They are void, do you remember what that means?" He asked gently, crouching at the boy's level a few feet away. He knew the child would feel safer if there was distance between them.

"Yes sir, it means they don't exist." Harry parroted instantly, knowing this answer, at least. So he wasn't in trouble for not doing his chores? But then where had the dark man gone, if not to get something to beat him with.

Severus stalked up the stairs, moving into the child's room. Getting away from the kitchen had done much to help him calm down. He wanted to hex that man, so badly. But it would not do if Harry believed him to be angry at him. The child did not need another person to be afraid of. He found what he was looking for, grabbing it and heading back downstairs.

The healer was watching him intently. It made him feel almost...naked. As if the man could see his very bones. Considering how scrawny he was, perhaps the healer could see his bones, especially since these clothes actually fit him well. Green eyes briefly met brown before dropping, once more, to the floor.

"Although there are a few rules here, Harry, those are not part of them. You will never be beaten or starved here, child. You will never go hungry." Tim remarked softly, keeping a keen eye on the young child. He was not quite worried about where Severus had gone. He would have felt the wards if the younger man was harming himself...or destroying something. He also knew that the man needed a brief respite from this, it was nearly too much for him to hear a child tell him that he was not suppose to eat. Oh how he wanted to get to that beast of a man! He glanced toward the doorway and bit back a smile. It was not often that the dour Potions Master would be caught holding a purple and silver plush dragon.

Severus crouched down next to the child, holding out the stuffed toy. Harry hesitated for a moment before latching onto the dragon and hugging it tightly to his chest. He knew that the boy needed comfort and that was why he had gotten the damn toy. Perhaps Harry would feel safer with his dragon than by himself. He hesitated briefly but slowly opened his arms to the child. He was just as surprised as Tim when the boy fell into them, silently sobbing.

It was too much, all too much. They would not beat him and they would feed him! That's what the healer man...Tim said. And the dark man had offered him his dragon and then offered him a hug! He felt so safe...it was overwhelming. Harry was not used to this, not at all. His uncle was not here and the men promised to not hurt him! He knew that he still had to earn his keep but he felt safe, really safe.

Severus held the child, listening to the gasping mutters of the boy intently. It was often telling, what children said when they were upset or hurt. He knew that Harry had experienced little comfort in his young life and he knew that now that he was away from that house, everything would be hitting the child all at once. He paused in his own thoughts to listen to the murmurs before scowling at the boy. "You will not have to 'earn your keep here' Mr. Potter. It is our duty, and delight, to take care of and... love you." He growled softly, causing the boy to sob all the more harder.

Tim frowned slightly, watching the scene in front of him. Harry was not calming down but working himself further up. Perhaps a bit of calming magic would do much to help him. He moved slowly, crouching down next to the pair. He gently rested a hand on the sobbing boy's back, sending in a gentle flow of magic. Severus raised an eyebrow at him but nodded when the boy seemed to calm slowly, no longer in danger of making himself sick.

It took awhile for his tears to stop and, although he felt ashamed, he did feel much better. Harry rested his unruly head on Severus' shoulder, squeaking when the older man picked up and placed him on his hip. The man was swaying a bit, rocking him. Calming him more. He felt so...cared for. So loved. Silent tears came again, but this time calmer, slower. It wasn't long before he found himself sitting, _sitting_!, on the dark man's lap, a plate of warm food and a glass of grape juice in front of him. The potions vials held to his lips and drank, and then a fork being gently positioned in his hand. No one had shown him how to use one before! He took a deep breath, leaned back against the man's chest, and took a careful bite of the macaroni. He grinned around the forkful, it was the best thing he had ever tasted, ever!

Severus smiled fondly down at the small child, eyes meeting Tim's for just a moment. The purple dragon sat on the boy's lap, one of the child's arms wrapped tightly around it, his hand gripping his own arm. He never thought he would be allowing this child to sit on him, to eat on his lap. He knew the boy needed the closeness, but it was something else too. Severus knew then exactly how Albus felt about him, how the older two men could love him like their own child. Because his heart was full of pain for the hurt this child when through and love. Love for a child that he never would have expected. Love for a child that he would fight for and live for. Love for one little Harry Potter.


	8. Sessions

A/N- _Still don't own. __I know it has been forever, I do apologize and hope that some of you are still reading. This is a bit of an unusual chapter for this story, it is a bit more angsty and a lot less fluffy than normal. It does involve some self harm. It is, quite literally, therapy sessions. Italics are thoughts, x's are scene and time breaks. I am fighting off my own relapse and so Severus has to suffer a bit. Enjoy and reviews are almost as good as chocolate, so let me know what you think. _

_~Case  
_

-x-

Harry bit back a frown, staring down at his trainers. These men were...odd. Their rules, that they had clarified, were not really rules. He had to eat and sleep. He wasn't expected to clean anything except his own room. He was suppose to eat at the table, to listen to the healer, and to take his medicines. He wasn't even suppose to call himself 'bad' words. Those weren't rules! And now the healer man...Tim wanted to talk to him. He didn't want to talk.

Tim sighed, watching the young child who was clutching a purple dragon to his chest. He needed to get the child to open up, which was why he had brought him up to his office, in hope that the boy might feel comfortable there. He would have tried this conversation in the boy's room, but he had wanted to try this first. The child was still afraid that they would hurt him, even after Albus had explained all of the rules and consequences to the boy. It was to be expected, of course, but that did not make it any easier to heal the child, especially since he refused to speak so far. "Are you comfortable here, Harry? At the cottage?" He asked finally, breaking the strained silence.

Harry gave a rapid nod. He didn't want the man to send him away! He wasn't sure what comfortable was, as he wasn't sure if he had ever been comfortable at the Dursleys. But he did like it here, at Seaside, and he felt safer than ever before. That counted for something, right? He knew that it wouldn't last, but he wasn't going to cause it to end early if he could help it. After all, who would want to keep a freak? _Not a freak. The dark man said. He hasn't lied yet. _It was confusing to him but he couldn't tell them that. His mind couldn't make sense of all the differences from Uncle.

The child was still so young, still at the age where he could not quite express what he was feeling and thinking. He had worked with children before, of course, so he knew how difficult it could be. But Tim wasn't sure if Harry would even try any of the games that would allow the boy to express what he was feeling better. The child had yet to touch his toys; granted, this was only his second day with them. Perhaps Harry would start to play when he felt safer, but he might not. The child had been abused and neglected for his entire life, he didn't know _how _to play, not really. "Would you like to play a game, Harry?" He asked calmly, watching the child's reaction. The boy didn't disappoint.

Harry visibly flinched and shook his head rapidly, his face a polite bland mask. He wasn't allowed to play games, he knew that. Only good boys could play and he was not a good boy, was he? "No sir." He whispered, staring at his trainers. He knew that it was the expected answer, to answer otherwise would mean pain. Uncle had tried to trick him a few times and then beaten him for wanting to play, because only normal people were allowed toys and games. His freakishness would just taint it. But hadn't the bright man said that those rules didn't apply? But it wasn't really a rule, it was a fact. He didn't want to be beaten, not when he was just starting to feel safe.

"That's alright, Harry. We can just talk instead. Is there a reason that you do not want to play?" Tim asked gently, raising an eyebrow at the boy. He could guess at the reason, but he wanted to hear it from the child himself.

"Freaks not allowed."

"Why is that, Harry?" The child was still not looking at him, little hands gripping his stuffed toy tightly.

"Toys are for normal, good boys. I am not good." Harry intoned with a half shrug. It was the truth he knew, perhaps Tim had just forgotten. Aunt forgot all the time. _She gave you away because she didn't want you anymore. Couldn't love you. No one can love such a freak, unwanted burden._ The nasty little voice in his mind hissed. He grimaced, he knew that was true too. But he wished, so much, for someone to love him. Wishes were pointless, they never came true.

"Why do you think that you are not good, Harry?"

"Uncle said, so it must be true." The boy shrugged.

Tim paused, watching the child. "And if I said otherwise?" He asked curiously. It would help to know how much damage he had to undo.

Harry frowned, glancing up briefly before returning his gaze to the floor. Uncle's word was law, at least at Privet Drive. But here, at Seaside Cottage? He wasn't so sure. "I don't know sir." He replied stiffly, waiting for the blow that never came. Huh. Perhaps everything would be different here. But he still did not want to become too comfortable here, for eventually they would tire of him.

"Tell me, Harry, did you like your Uncle? Was he a good person?" Tim asked casually, tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair. The boy shifted uncomfortably for a moment and he thought that he might refuse to answer but Harry surprised him, not for the first time and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Life as he knew it was changing because of one small boy and he was perfectly fine with that change.

Harry hesitated, biting his lip._ Uncle wasn't a good person. He was rude and cruel to anyone who mattered. He treated me correctly, but he hurt Aunt Petunia and therefore he isn't good._ He knew he wasn't suppose to think like that and he knew that he wasn't suppose to answer that question, but he couldn't help it. He'd punish himself later for it, if the healer didn't do it first. "He was a right bastard, sir." He replied finally, looking up with dull green eyes. He hid his emotion well and although he was afraid of the man's reaction, he would not show it.

Tim quickly bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. While he would normally scold the boy for such language, it was a fitting description in his opinion. "That he was, Harry. That he was." He murmured quietly, watching the rigid child slowly relax before suddenly slamming his fist into his head. When his hand moved to repeat the action, Tim leaned forward and gently trapped the boy's wrist. _Damn it. _"You did nothing wrong, Harry. I asked you to express your thoughts to me and you did so. You were obeying me, child. You do not need to harm yourself. You never need to harm yourself." He added briskly, meeting scared green eyes before the child looked away. "Look at me, Harry. You are a good child, a good boy. What your uncle said were lies. He shouldn't have done that. You are good. Do you understand that?" He didn't ask if the child believed it because he knew that they were quite far from Harry believing anything good about himself.

"Yes sir." Harry whispered, frowning at the gentle grip on his wrists. It didn't hurt, of course not, but it was odd. No one had stopped him from punishing himself before he came here, except for Petunia of course, but she didn't count. He knew he wasn't good and he knew he should argue, but he was tired. Exhausted. He had been so tired today, like everything was hitting him at once. Perhaps because it was.

Tim sighed, glancing at the time piece. Severus would be up soon to see him and the child was flagging. The events of the last few days would be tiring for such a small body, especially one that had locked down all emotion to protect itself. Harry's body and mind would be struggling to handle the pressure and emotions, something the broke down many adults. "Alright child. I know you are tired. Why don't you go rest or play for a while? We can talk more later. Albus should be in the sitting room and I believe he had a book for you." He remarked finally, squeezing the child's hand briefly before letting go. He had already cast the alerts in the child's room, to let him know if the boy was harming himself. A small nod was his answer as the child quickly dashed away. It was going to be a difficult journey for all four of them, he knew. And he still had one more session this afternoon, with a stubborn man.

-x-

Severus growled, stalking up to Tim's office. He didn't want to 'check in' with the damn healer. He was not some child. But he had agreed to Albus and Tim's rules nearly a decade ago and he knew the consequences for breaking those rules. Rules that were designed to keep him safe and to cause him to think before acting, not that that always happened, clearly. He also knew that as angry as he had been, the nightmares that came back was not something he wanted to deal with. Talking with Tim about it, however reluctantly, would help. Otherwise, he might do something he regretted, at least in the long run. He seriously doubted that he would regret killing that bastard of a muggle currently. Hm. Food for thought, anyway.

"Come in." Tim called at the bitter knock. The younger man entered with a scowl and he sighed. This would be no easier than Harry's session, except he had been working with Severus for longer so he knew the best way to work with him. "Sit." He ordered, pointing to the chair that Harry had vacated.

Severus grumbled under his breath, dropping gracefully into the armchair directly across from Tim. He would rather be doing anything besides this. His weekly sessions were fine, usually. But this was different, he knew. Every time he landed in hot water, quite a few times over the years, Tim always tried to get an explanation out of him, to get him to talk about his _feelings._ He didn't want to talk about his damn feelings. "It was self defense." He groused finally, ignoring the penetrating stare of the older man.

"I understand that Severus. That is not, however, why we are here. Talk to me." Tim replied quietly, leaning forward.

What did the damn man think he was doing, if not talking? Of course, he did know what Tim meant. The dark haired man just did not feel like humouring him today. "I was under the impression that I was." Severus drawled, raising an eyebrow.

Tim managed to not groan aloud, but it was a just thing. Severus in one of his moods would be every bit as difficult as Harry was. Worse even, as Severus' vocabulary was much larger and his sarcasm much grander than that of an eleven year old. He knew it was partly a defense mechanism but it was also a major part of the younger man. _He would choose today._ He groused for a moment before turning intense brown eyes back on the smirking younger man. "Tell me what is on your mind, Severus?" He requested finally.

Severus snorted. Now that was a loaded requested. "I'd rather not."

"Severus." Tim sighed.

"I believe that this is a waste of my time. There is a child who needs you, and me, much more than we need to have a _conversation_. I will not spend my day pointlessly chattering away. Good day." Severus growled finally, standing rapidly and heading toward the door. He just had to be faster than the man's wand. Perhaps Tim would even let him escape today.

"If you leave this room, not only will your restriction be longer but you will not be sitting happily." Tim warned quietly, causing the younger man to freeze. "Sit down. Now." His brisk tone was not one he would have taken with Harry, not yet anyway, but Severus knew it for the warning it was. The younger man rolled his eyes before returning to his chair.

Tim did not usually start with threats. Perhaps his session with Harry had not gone well? That was something to inquire about later. Severus sighed, glaring at the older man. " I hate that spell." He murmured finally.

"As did I as a student. My mentor found it effective and I have too, over the years." Tim replied softly. His mentor had indeed found it effective, when he was a mere apprentice. An area specific, altered stinging spell. It kept apprentices from being stupid and reckless and patients from running away or being reckless. He had been taught that spell right before he finished his apprenticeship, one that his mentor had said would be useful to know. And it had proven so, but he did know how much the spell stung when it hit the bottom that it was aimed at. "If you wish to avoid it, then behave yourself." He added sharply, studying the younger man closely.

Severus grimaced, scowling at the older man. "I'm not in the mood, Tim." He growled finally.

"And yet, that is when you most need to talk." He retorted quietly.

"Fine. What do you want to know?" The younger man snapped.

Tim sighed, closing his eyes briefly. What did he want to know? Everything that bothered his boys. But what would Severus be willing to share? That was always the question. "Tell me what is bothering you, please." He requested finally.

Severus groaned. He had walked right into that one, he knew. It was not a request that he could just ignore but he could be misleading if necessary. Perhaps it was necessary today, although he did not often mislead Tim. "It's just...Harry. I don't know how to help him." He scowled, glancing away from the penetrating eyes. It was not a lie, not really. He was worried about Harry.

Tim's eyes narrowed briefly before he sighed. "It is difficult without knowing how much damage there is to try to change, nor what damages cannot be undone. But we will help him, Severus. He will come to feel safe here, as you once did." The calm reply was quiet, as the healer observed the younger man. The fact that he would not meet his eyes was telling, something had happened to cause this. Severus probably was not lying, exactly, as he knew that the younger man was coming to care for the little boy, but he was also doing himself a disservice. He could not allow that; letting this child slip into a depressive state would help no one. It had been four years since the last major relapse, although there had been a few minor incidents and relapses during that time. This young man could easily return to harming himself, if he felt the need to. It was not healthy and Tim knew that he had to do his best to prevent it, to help this child. But he couldn't unless he knew what was wrong. "Tell me what is really bothering you, Severus."

_Damn man._ He sighed, onyx eyes staring holes in the carpet. "I don't know what to tell you, Tim." He remarked, finally looking back up at the older man.

"The truth would be helpful."

"I'm..." _Terrified. Terrified of failing Harry, terrified of becoming my father. Terrified of my father, although the man is long dead. He haunts my dreams, my memories. I can't sleep, my stomach hurts, and I just want to slash my arm. But perhaps I'm just.. _"Tired. There's been so much work to do and then we received Harry and you lost your apartment, _again. _It is summer, there is always work for Hogwarts to be done and now I do not have much time to do that and my Potions Master duties. I'm just stressed Tim, I'll be fine." Severus sighed, gazing toward the door. There was work he needed to finish and a child he wanted to check in on.

"Yes, you will be. Because I will be here to help you along. As I shall be here when you are ready to talk. You are not alone in this, Severus. You have us to support you and to catch you should you fall. I know you will be fine, but do you?" Tim replied softly, watching the younger man falter for a moment.

Severus was silent for several moments before he finally looked up, giving the briefest of nods. "I do. Thank you, Tim. If that is all?" He murmured equally quiet.

"It is. You know where I am should you need me." Tim dismissed with a nod, that the younger man returned before swiftly standing and exiting. He listened for a moment, hearing the footsteps descend the stairs. The younger man would find him when he was needed, if he did not find him first.

-x-

Severus stopped in the doorway of Harry's room, staring down at the small body that was curled up on the rug, a book clutched to the sleeping child's chest. His body was healing still, replacing nutrition and recovering from his injuries, so of course he was tired. It was to be expected. He gave a small smile, easily lifting the too-small boy off the floor and onto his bed. He gently tucked the covers around the child, who had stirred briefly but instantly returned to sleep, marking his place in the book before setting it aside. He watched the child sleep for a moment before casting a brief charm and heading back upstairs. There was work to be done, after all.

His lab was as he had left it, with a potion simmering softly and another glimmering under a stasis charm. The simmering potion was ready to be bottled and sent to Poppy. The other was not yet at that stage, it needed to cure for two more days. There was a pile of paperwork on the desk in the corner, another pile on his work table, spells on both to keep the papers safe from explosions and spills. Although explosions were rare these days, they did still happen when he was careless. He paced restlessly for several minutes, checking ingredients and stores. He finally stopped in front of his work table, picking up the potions knife with ease.

His mind was daunting, the child downstairs was unsettling. A child so abused that he thought he would be starved! Or worse._ I am useless, a waste. I cannot help this child. I am cruel and unkind, a monster...No. Not a monster, but not a hero either. Damn it! I need the pain. I need to feel, to focus. _With that he pushed up his sleeve with his free hand, angling the knife up. He pressed it lightly to his upper arm but then he hesitated, his hand trembling. _I cannot. I am fine. I am safe. I am loved. _The mantra did not always work but it helped ground him, to draw him away from the negative for a brief moment. He didn't really need the pain, he wanted it. And he knew that it had nothing to do with Harry and everything to do with himself and his own demons, with the brief encounter from the child's uncle stirring up the memories and emotions that he thought were long gone, doors that should have been locked tight. He did not need the pain, at that moment, but he knew that he would grow to need it if he returned to it. It was an escalating downward fall. He could not afford a major relapse again, but perhaps it would not be a relapse at all. The knife grazed his arm and he hissed at the slight pain. It was not what it could be but it was enough. He needed nothing more. Severus dropped the knife back onto the table and sank into his chair, head in his hands. A drop of blood danced down his arm, flowing swiftly over the shallow scratch as he promised his self, for the thousand time, _never again._

_-x-  
_


	9. Fears

A/N-_ Why yes, I finally felt alive enough to write this...sorry for the long break. My goal is twice a month, currently, but I so rarely seem to make that...Anyway, still don't own. Still AU. Italics are often thoughts, x's are scene breaks. Hm, so Harry and Albus spend some time together, it's a bit cute and sad...AND Tim and Severus have a serious conversation. We learn more about Tim here, a glimpse inside his mind, if you will. Because Tim is one of my favourites, of all the characters I have created. So yes, enjoy. And, use your words._

_~Cas  
_

-x-

Harry bit his lip, sitting up in his bed. He always ended up here, he just wasn't sure how. He had been reading on the floor and he must had fallen asleep. But he had _books_ and he loved books, so much. Aunt used to give him books whenever she could, they made him feel normal, even though he knew he was far from normal. He was a freak. A freak who had a giant bed and a large room. He had books and there were toys, but they couldn't be for _him._ He drew his legs under him, staring with wide, blank eyes around the room once more. He couldn't help it, this room still amazed him.

"Ah, you're awake Harry." Albus remarked gently from the doorway. He had stopped to peek in on the child on his way downstairs once more. Perhaps, however, it was time for him to spend more time with this child. Harry needed a family, after all. It would not do for them to leave the boy to his own devices all the time, especially as the boy was more likely to just sit and stare at walls if they did.

Harry flinched at the kindly old voice, turning to look at the older man. The headmaster had only been nice to him so far, but he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the gloves to come off. It always happened, they would realize how big of a freak he was soon enough. He kept his green eyes lowered, knowing better than to meet the man's eyes. "Yes sir." He murmured softly. It had not really required an answer, but Uncle had always expected one.

"Would you like to play with some of your toys, Harry? We could play together." Albus suggested kindly, smiling at the young boy. He knew that Tim's session had not gone well, but it was nothing that they hadn't expected. Not really. Harry was an abused child, there were going to be quite a few problems that they would have to get through. But they would get through them together, as a family should.

Harry shook his head rapidly, knowing very well that those toys could not be for him. He knew Aunt had bought some toys and sent them with him, but it was clearly a mistake. As were the other toys he had noticed today. They couldn't be for him. Freaks did not have toys. None. Not at all.

"Do you not like them, Harry? We can find other toys if you would prefer them." Albus asked gently, sitting his old bones slowly into a conjured armchair.

"I don't want to ruin their toys, sir."

"Whose toys, Harry?" Albus frowned slightly, confused briefly. The toys were Harry's, who else would they belong to?

"The kids who live here, sir." Harry explained slowly, looking up through his fringe at the older man.

"Ah. No other children live here, Harry. You are the only one. These toys are yours." Albus clarified kindly, smiling at the young boy. But inside, he was upset. The child really believed that he wasn't worth toys? Oh, Dursley better hope that they never meet. Or the vile creature would quickly learn that while his son was rash, he was also capable of revenge. His revenge was just a bit more non-violent than Severus'.

Harry blinked, frowning at the Headmaster man. The toys couldn't be for _him_. Freaks weren't allowed toys! "Not allowed." Harry murmured, dropping his eyes back to his lap.

"You are allowed Harry. The rules you are following do not apply anymore. This toys are _yours_." Albus remarked sternly, raising a gray eyebrow at the young boy. "Do you like trains, Harry?" He asked slowly, thinking quickly. He needed a way for the child to understand that he was allowed to play, that he was _allowed_ to be a child here.

He hesitated, his face still in its blank mask. But Harry was confused. Did he like trains? He wasn't sure, he'd never been on a train before nor had he played with train sets. Dudley had some train sets, but the older boy had always broken them almost instantly. "I don't know, sir." He responded finally, peeking up through his fringe.

"Albus."

"Sir?"

"My name is Albus, child. Not sir. If you are not comfortable with Albus...well, we'll figure something out. Now, let us find out if you like trains. I believe there is a set around here somewhere."Albus stated quietly, standing and starting to search the shelves. He knew the boy was not likely to actually call him Albus, but they would have to work something out. This sir nonsense was driving him insane, although some would say that was not a very far journey indeed. He bit back a chuckle, shuffling through a toy bin they had put on the shelf for Harry. The poor boy hadn't even touched any of the toys yet. He sighed softly, letting the bit of sadness for this boy show only briefly before finally finding the train set, a replica of the Hogwarts Express, picking it up and turning to grin at the child. "Here it is! What do you say that we put this together and see if it runs?"

Harry hesitated briefly, before moving quickly to sit on the floor, taking the train tracks from the older wizard and starting to connect them together. He peeked up through his long fringe, watching as the headmaster slowly lowered himself onto the floor, on a pillow, before turning his eyes back to the tracks. _Freaks not suppose to play. Uncle said. But Al-Headmaster sir said that Uncle was wrong. So did Tim and the Dark Professor. So maybe Uncle was wrong? Or are they wrong?_ He grimaced, the conflicting thoughts made his head hurt. He kept putting the pieces together, however, forming a rather large oval with the track pieces. "Is that right, sir?" He asked cautiously, vivid green eyes looking up at the man.

"Hm, yes I believe that will work quite well." Albus smiled at the child, holding out the scarlet engine. Harry took it slowly, connecting the passenger cars to it. He watched with twinkling blue eyes as the child placed the wheels on the track with ease. This was the fun part, after all.

"How does it move sir? Do I push it, or? Harry questioned curiously, eyes focused intently on the train. The fluttering in his stomach he thought might be excitement. The train was just so _beautiful._

"It runs two ways. One is on..batteries? The other is by magic. It's quite simple, really." Albus responded, pleased to see excitement showing through this hurting child. He stretched his hand out slowly, pointing a finger at the train. "Slow." He ordered and the train slowly reared to life, chugging along the large oval track. Albus let it go around once before ordering for it to stop. "Would you like to try, Harry?" He asked quietly, knowing quite well how weary the child was around magic. But wizarding children usually had magical toys...it was a bit difficult to find something that wasn't magical in their world.

Harry flinched slightly, wide eyes staring at the now stationary train. More freakishness. But the Headmaster had called it...magic. And he wasn't really a freak, was he? He did dress...oddly, but he was also older. He had heard Aunt once mention that older people tended to fall out of trend with what was okay to wear. Or something like that. Perhaps it was okay to try at least. Perhaps he wouldn't need the weird light stuff that came out of him sometimes, or the lights that had come from his wand, when he first tried it. He slowly held a trembling hand out, clenching his eyes shut before whispering "Go." He heard the train start moving and kept his eyes close, shrinking back. Surely they would beat him now, he had done something freaky again.

"Well done, Harry!" Albus praised, watching the child flinch and shrink away. "Very good. Do you think it should go faster?" He questioned, trying to subtly draw the child out. A quick head shake and tightening lips was his answer. "Harry, look at me please." He requested finally. Scared green eyes opened and met his briefly before looking away. "Do you remember the rules we told you, Harry? You will never be beaten here, nor will you get in trouble for doing something we ask. Magic is not bad, Harry. It does not make you bad or freaky or weird. It makes you different, yes, but it is a good difference. As long as you do not try casting with your wand without one of us around, at least this summer, you will not be any trouble. Once you start school, you may use your wand whenever you need to. But you will never be beaten here, not for magic, not for anything." Albus soothed gently, slowly resting a hand on the boy's shoulder.

Harry flinched but settled quickly. He knew, somehow he just knew, that the Headmaster was not lying to him. He wasn't sure whether he could quite believe it yet, but that was alright. Uncle had been telling him things forever, whereas these men had only had him for two days. They would probably get sick of him eventually, but he hoped not. He finally gave a slight nod, to show that he understood, and turned his eyes to the moving train. "Faster." He commanded, grinning when the speed picked up quickly. Albus merely smiled, feeling the young man relax, his hand still resting gently on his shoulder.

-x-

Tim paced, grimacing occasionally in thought. The barb from Severus earlier had stung, even if it was true. His eyes gazed around his room briefly, landing on the sleeping Maple. Usually she stayed downstairs, but she had, perhaps, sensed his agitation. His room. Hmpf. Losing his apartment had...bothered him. Because he thought he had been doing so well this time. Granted, Albus and his secretary had worked out a system so that the complex was paid on time. It was only when he took back over handling the payments and the utilities that he ran into trouble. Six months. He handled the apartment on his own for six month, it was nearly a new recorded. Except...he forgot to make payments for the last four months. He had couch surfed for a week, his friends good-naturedly had just smiled and shook their heads. He would still be couch surfing, but Albus had found out, a week ago, thanks to his loud mouth receptionist/secretary. He had been back here a week before they brought Harry. Severus was home a week early now, which meant both Albus and Severus would be traveling back and forth to Hogwarts all summer. Because the Headmaster and the Deputy had to check in on the school nearly every day, although there was a teacher or two staying over summer break. If he was correct, it was the Defense instructor and the Maths teacher. Albus had finally added some modern classes to Hogwarts, after changing his Deputy, to better prepare the students for the world outside of Hogwarts. He groaned, turning toward the door. Speaking of the Deputy, he knew that knock well. Hopefully Severus wasn't here to be snarky.

Severus sighed, staring at the closed door in front of him. He knocked again, softer this time. As he was brewing, he had thought of something, a conversation he and Petunia had in the car ride back to Surrey. Suddenly the puzzle in his head had clicked into place. Perhaps Tim wasn't just forgetful after all. It also helped that he had the shampoo he made for Maple's sensitive skin as well as a note from the pet store owner about Maple's feed. He was about to leave when the door opened and Tim raised an eyebrow at him. "May I enter?" He drawled, raising an eyebrow of his own at the slightly older man. The healer looked tired and stressed, even...upset.

Tim merely stepped aside, letting the younger man enter his chambers. "I take it you want to talk?" He asked quietly, frowning slightly. Severus did not hold the same air he often did when he came to discuss his problems. But nor did he seem alright. It was almost like he was hiding something.

"I did, but not about what you think. Here is Maple's shampoo and this letter came for you." Severus replied with a shrug, offering the healer the letter first, turning to scratch Maple's head. He was already aware of what the letter had said; it had actually came to Albus and Albus had read it and asked him to give it to Tim. He turned slightly, so that he could observe the older man without being noticed.

Tim grimaced, glaring down at the letter. He read it quickly, stopping and rereading it. It was a simple statement really. He had overpaid the man once again, and it had been added to his account which now equaled...a lot and he didn't need to pay for... a while. At least, that's what he took from it. He wasn't quite sure of the numbers, not that he would ever admit it to anyone. Medical scans he could read easily, as well as books and patient charts. He could even read scales and height charts well. But large figures...didn't make sense to him. He could read them, yes, but he didn't quite understand them. He was a healer for god-sake! He should be able to read damn numbers! Tim crushed the letter into a ball and tossed it into the waste basket. He ignored the raised eyebrow of the Potion's Master, picking up the bottle of Maple's wash. "If that is all, Severus..." He trailed off, glancing at the younger man. He frowned suddenly, something was wrong. He just wasn't sure what just yet.

"It is not. I am...concerned, Tim. My comment earlier, about your apartment, was said in anger and uncalled for. But there is some truth there. You do not always forget to pay. Sometimes you overpay, don't you? Or don't pay enough?" Severus questioned quietly, settling down in an armchair that Tim conjured as the older man dropped into the other. He had looked at quite a few reference books when the idea occurred to him, a few hours ago. After his little...release. Not that Tim needed to know that. After clearing his head, the puzzle, long ago started and often forgotten about, came to the front once more. He silently summoned the crumbled letter to him, perusing it once more as brown eyes glared at him. "You overpaid by 50 galleons this time, which he added to your account. Your account which now is over 300 galleons. Maple's feed cost fifteen galleons a month, not counting anything else you might need. He adds that he will most likely not require payment for...eighteen months. A year and a half." He drawled quietly, fighting to keep the sarcasm from his tone. It was nearly impossible, but Tim did not need the snark right now.

"I read it, Severus. It is fine." Tim shrugged, biting back a grimace. He knew that was quite a bit of money, actually and a long period of time. A year and a half, he understood that quite well. So he'd have to pay again next August...or was it December? Or...damn. He hated this. But admitting it to the child he had taken care of for nearly a decade, never mind telling Albus...it just wasn't something he could do. Although he knew his secretary had guessed. She didn't let him handle the money anymore and she had gotten him a watch that he could actually read. Thank the gods.

"It is not. Something is wrong Tim. You are hiding something from us. I was under the impression that this family ran on truth." Severus replied dryly, raising an eyebrow.

"It does. You, as well, are hiding something." Tim shot back, raising an eyebrow of his own.

"Alright, then I will tell if you do." Severus shrugged. Really, it wasn't like he could have hidden it forever anyway. Tim would have wheedled it out of him during their next session.

Damn it. "Fine." Tim snarled, glaring at the younger man before taking a deep breath and calming himself. He was usually much calmer than this. "I have...trouble with numbers. It's a learning disorder called.."

"Dyscalculia. Some of the students have it." Severus remarked quietly. He knew what it meant, of course. That the other man's brain had trouble processing numbers. He had trouble with time, or Tim used to, before his assistant had given him a watch that beeped in intervals before his appointments. He knew that Tim had trouble doing large sums but the man could easily brew. Perhaps that was more because he knew the value of, say, five ounces of willow bark, as opposed to the number five.

Tim looked down, fighting back his sense of shame. He had helped find help for children with learning problems before. His colleague who helped those children had offered to give him tips before, but he was too proud, he knew that.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of Tim, nor something to hide from us. Especially when we are willing to help you, if you will let us." Severus remarked quietly, watching the older man with a small sigh. He had known the man for years, and yet there were still things he did not know about him. Although he did know much more than most people ever would. Tim was a private person, usually. Unless he had to live with his patient, which happened quite often over the years. Often enough that the older man had his own, permanent office in the house. He also knew Albus' plans...but he would not spoil them just yet.

"I was diagnosed last year. A colleague was curious and managed to convince me to get tested. I will...accept your help. However, I will tell Albus when I feel the time is right." Tim sighed, finally looking back up. He knew that Severus had helped a few of his house with learning problems and he trusted the younger man, but now it was time to find out what was wrong with his younger friend. "Now, your turn."

Severus grimaced but nodded. "I'd rather show you." He muttered, pushing up his sleeve with the ease of long practice. He watched the healer's eyes widen briefly but received a sharp nod. He dropped his sleeve back down, covering the cut that wasn't much more than a scratch.

Tim sighed, surveying the younger man. It was not a bad wound, it didn't even really require healing. But he understood what it meant, quite clearly. "Why did you not come to me?"

"I...wanted it. It will not happen again." Severus shrugged. Discussion closed. Or not.

"I see. Did something cause it?" Tim asked quietly, frowning slightly. It would happen again, he knew. The young man said it to him nearly every time and it always happened again in the future. But not as often as when he didn't say it, when he fell back into it.

He grimaced, nodding slightly. "I was thinking and I rather not talk about it. Right now, at least." Severus replied curtly, biting his lip.

"We will discuss it later then. Do I need to put a charm on you?" Tim asked sharply, raising an eyebrow. Severus merely shook his head. Of course not. "Alright. I believe it is nearly time for the evening meal." He added finally, standing slowly.

Severus also stood, biting back a sigh. Great, food. He hesitated for a moment before hugging Tim, allowing the older man to hug him back. "Thank you, for telling me." He murmured quietly, before disappearing out the door, leaving a pleased healer behind him.


	10. Shower problems

A/N_- Short, yes. But...I updated! This story is taking me a bit longer than I would like, but hopefully it will start moving forward after the new year. I see many firsts in the future for Harry and his new, unusual family. It is a bit of an odd chapter...but it will make sense in the end. Trust me. Do not own. Italics are often thoughts, x's are scene breaks. As always, use your words. I am sorry for the wait, ya'll. Will try to do better this next year._

_~Cas  
_

__-x-

Harry frowned, staring at the large porcelain tub and the separate shower. He had taken a quick cold shower the night before, when the Headmaster had ordered him to take a bath. He hadn't had a bath since he was about four or five, he knew better than to take one now. But he had been told to come take a bath again tonight. Two showers in as many days...he wasn't used to that. Uncle had let him take a quick two-minute shower twice a week and Aunt Petunia always let him take a long shower, whenever he wanted, when Uncle was out-of-town. He knew he had to be fast about it here, even if the Headmaster hadn't said that. Why should it be any different than Uncle was, after all?

Albus sighed, leaning against the wall opposite the loo. The child had been in there for twenty minutes and had yet to start running any water. He was tempted to check on him, but he would give him a little bit longer. Hopefully Harry was not one of those boys who dawdled in the bathroom and then ran a wet comb through their hair, so that they could pretend to have bathed. It would be an unnecessary battle and they would have enough battles in the coming weeks without baths being one of them.

Harry sighed, dim green eyes staring blankly at the shower. He was confused, it was only to be expected. He had just turned eleven, after all. And he had lived with Uncle his whole life, he knew nothing else. Uncle used to trick him like this when he was younger, if Petunia wasn't home. Making him think he could take a shower but then bursting into the room and beating him. Or grabbing him after he finished his shower, whipping his wet skin. Or.._Nonono. I won't think of that. NO!_ He took a deep breath, forcing his mind to calm, forcing that thought to the very back, shoving it into a box. He would not think, he would not feel. He was a freak, freaks did not deserve regular showers. He knew this, it had been beaten into him. But he had been ordered to bathe, so he would do so and deal with the consequences of obeying afterwards. He checked once more to make sure the door was locked before stripping down and stepping into the shower. He turned the cold water on and closed his eyes, leaning against the wall. The scars on his back stood out against his pale skin but there was no one there to see them.

Albus straightened, listening to the water run for a moment before heading back downstairs to leave the child to his privacy. Hopefully, with time, the child would become more comfortable here.

Harry lost track of time, letting the cold water drench his body for several minutes before suddenly snapping to. He scrubbed his skin harshly, letting the soap burn and rub, drawing small bits of blood from parts of his wrinkly skin. He was dirty, he needed to be clean. He washed quickly before shampooing his hair and rinsing it. He snapped the water off, grabbing a towel and vigorously rubbing himself dry. He knew he would be punished for the fifteen minute shower. He had to be. He went thirteen minutes over, he deserved whatever they did to him. He shivered violently, as his body started to return to a normal temperature. The cold water was usually hard to endure for that long, but he had blocked it out. He was used to pain, after all. He picked up the new pajamas and pants, staring down at them. He did not deserve such nice things, but all his old clothing had disappeared. He sighed, dressing quickly but hesitated before opening the door. Better to get it over with, though. He opened the door slowly, frowning when there was no adult waiting for him, and headed down stairs. He just hoped this would not make them want to get rid of him.

Severus looked up from his stack of parchment, raising an eyebrow at the pajama-clad boy standing in the doorway to the family room. Harry was shaking, his skin red and chafed. Did the child use water that was too hot? Surely he knew how to regulate the temperature knobs? But perhaps not, they were bit different from standard muggle taps. "Harry?" He beckoned to the child, confused as to why the boy had yet to enter the room.

Harry frowned, surveying the room. The dark professor had been reading and Healer Tim was playing chess with Headmaster Albus. The older two men had not looked up yet, but Severus was watching him closely. He knew excuses would get him nowhere, so he figured he would just apologize and take what was coming to him. "Sorry sir." He murmured, his eyes staring at the floor as he stepped into the room, stopping still a bit away from the dark man.

"For what, Harry?" He puzzled, concern showing in his eyes. Albus and Tim had stopped their game, turning to watch the small child.

Harry gulped, closing his eyes. Uncle had been like that, wanting him to list his bad behaviour and rule breaking. His professor had promised they wouldn't hurt him, but he knew it was a lie. All adults hit eventually, except his Aunt. But she just hadn't known how to treat a freak. They would.

Tim grimaced, watching the dark-haired child start to shake and tremble. Clearly the child thought he was in trouble for some imagined wrong...if they did not calm him quickly, he would have an anxiety attack. "Tell us what's wrong, Harry?" He questioned softly, knowing the child would see it as an order and, although they wanted to get him out of the mindset of automatically having to obey them out of fear, it would be beneficial here. For the need to obey, the routine of answering questions was calming for some children. It meant they were not left guessing for long periods of time.

"I..Shower. Too long." Harry whispered, keeping his face perfectly blank and his eyes focused on the carpet.

Severus bit back a sigh, understanding instantly. Here was another child who had been trained to take quick showers and was punished for failing. He had gone through this with quite a few of his students over the years. Some were raised to take quick scalding showers and other had been taught to only take freezing showers. The boy was shivering not sweating, so he could easily assume it was the latter. "How long do you believe you should shower for, Harry?" He asked gently, glancing at Tim. The healer had leaned forward, intently watching the child for the signs of a break down.

Green eyes blinked, confused by the question. How long should he shower for? Shouldn't the Professor already know that? It was, after all, the rules. But it was uncle's rules. Perhaps there were different shower rules here. The other rules were different, after all. Not that they were very good rules. Why should they care if he ate all his food or called himself names? He was a freak after all, so it wasn't really a label, as the healer had called it. It was just who he was. If the Professor didn't know, he could lie, add more time. Not very much more, but perhaps a minute or two? So he could get cleaner. But no, he knew better than to lie. Lying made the beatings worse. "Two minutes, sir."

Albus blinked, not bothering to hide his surprise. The child was not looking at him, after all. Or anything except for the floor. Two minutes? That...man expected a child to shower in two minutes? The slight tremor to the child's voice spoke volumes. He expected to be hit, for going over such a ridiculous amount of time. They had three weeks until they moved back to Hogwarts, a month before school started. He wasn't so sure anymore that it would be enough time to help this child, that he would be healthy enough to manage classes with his year mates.

"Well Harry, here you do not have to manage such a feat. While you are with us, and when you are at school, you are allowed to bathe for as long as you like. Actually, you are expected to. You are to take as long as you need to get clean, child." Severus remarked briskly, leaving no room for argument. Not that he thought the child would argue much. He gave a soft smile to the child when shocked green eyes darted up to meet his. It would take a while to convince the child that those rules no longer existed, but it would be worth it, just to see those bright green eyes light up.

"I seem to remember promising to read some more with you, Harry. If you are ready for bed, I believe we have time for a story or two." Albus remarked quietly, glancing at the old timepiece.

"Really sir?" Harry asked quietly. He had been bad. But no, the professor had said it wasn't bad. Still, why would anyone want to read to a freak like him? Even if they had promised.

"It would be my pleasure child." He smiled at the boy, blue eyes twinkling at the grin on Harry's face. He looked so much younger like that. With a nod to the other men, he followed the boy upstairs, for what he hoped would become a nightly ritual, at least for a while.

-x-

"Nightmares, Severus?"

"It is fine, Albus. I am fine. Just...go back to bed. Harry will probably wake again tonight." Severus sighed, his head buried in his hands for a moment. The dream had felt so real, like he was living it again. But he wasn't. _I am safe. I am loved. I am cared for._ His silent mantra helped a little, but not much. He just needed time, a few moments even, to calm his heart and mind. To lock those thoughts back into the box from which they came. Perhaps he would have to open the box and sort through the thoughts again, but not tonight. He was fine. Well, no actually, he wasn't delusional. He knew he wasn't fine. But he would be. He didn't even want to harm himself, because there was a child that needed him and those urges had faded years before. He never thought that this child would reawaken his past, bring back memories that he had long since buried. But Harry had, inadvertently as it was.

"He will not. Tim gave him the children's sleeping draught. You are not fine, son. The wards would not have alerted me otherwise." Albus replied calmly, sinking into the nearby armchair. It had been a tiring day for all four of them and he knew exhaustion could sometimes set off the younger man's nightmares. But it rarely did. In the last eight years, the young man had healed greatly. He was no longer merely holding up a mask; Severus was actually healthy and often happy, even as he remained the snarky, kind, sarcastic young man that he was. The young man he loved as a son. He wouldn't change Severus even if he could, although Albus did often wish that he would be a little less cryptic. No matter, he had learned to recognize the younger man's cues over the years. "Was it your father?" He asked finally, his tone soft. The shudder from the dark-haired man was answer enough.

"Of course. Harry...brings back some of those memories. Some of the similarities are eerie." Came the dry drawl. There were few others who could invoke such reactions from him as his father had. He took a deep breath, forcing his mind to calm. It took a moment but the calming helped greatly.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No. Not tonight." Severus sighed, closing his eyes. He knew the older man wouldn't force the issue but he really rather not be alone right yet.

"Alright son. I am hear when you are ready." Albus replied quietly, slowly starting to get to his feet.

"Dad...could you...stay? Please." His face turned red as the plead came out in a rush of words. He shouldn't have asked, he was a grown man after all. And several years ago, he wouldn't have asked. At all. He would have just fought his demons on his own, or harmed himself to handle the fear and loneliness. But he wasn't alone anymore, he didn't have to be alone.

"Of course, child. Always." Albus smiled softly, settling back into the armchair. He would stay until his child fell asleep, before checking on his other adopted son and the young child he was starting to think of as a grandson. Summer was coming to an end, he knew, but he still had plenty of time to spend with his boys. To help heal a young boy and to guide two men, because to him they were also still young. Still in need of the guidance they did not have growing up. Still in need of love. So he would love them, because he did love them. And he always would.


	11. Accidents Happen

_A/N- What's this? An update?!_ _Exhaustion leads to insanity...fair warning. Do not own. Italics are usually thoughts, x's are scene breaks. Enjoy and as always, use your words.  
~Case_

-x-  
"Harry? Could you come out from there please?" Severus requested quietly, crouching a good several metres away from the cupboard. The fact that the child had automatically fled to a _cupboard_ was a bit...displeasing. The incident that caused this flight was not even serious. The fact of the matter was that the child was not even in any trouble. But the child had fled out of fear. He knew that. It was just unsettling, to say the least.

Harry trembled, breaths coming in short gasps. He had been here four days, _four days,_ and he just couldn't stop screwing up. He was such a worthless freak, uncle had been right. He didn't deserve the kindness they had offered him, not when he messed it up like this. He was just trouble and he knew he would be punished this time, he had to be. He had been bad.

"This is non-negotiable, Harry. I need you to come out of the cupboard please." He added briskly, biting back a sigh. He glanced at the nearest timepiece, shaking his head. The child had been in there for forty minutes already and Tim was not due back for at least another hour. Albus was attending to business at the school, preparing for both the new term and a room for Harry. Severus knew that he could expect no help on this right now. He was on his own. Which was...terrifying. Although he was glad they were facing these issues now, instead of when the term started.

He shook his head rapidly, although he knew the dark man could not see him. If he came out, he would be beaten. If he didn't, he would be beaten. Either way, he knew he would be beaten. Wouldn't he? Didn't they promise not to hit him though? But all adults hit. Or at least, all men that he had ever known. Except his teacher; that was different. Teachers weren't allowed to hit students. But they were going to be his teachers. So were they allowed to hit him because he wasn't their student yet? He didn't know what was true anymore. There were too many voices screaming in his head, his uncle's words being more prominent than any others. But his uncle's voice had slowly been lessening over the last few days.

"You are not in trouble, Harry. I would like to make sure you are not injured, however. That was a nasty fall you took. So please come out and let us talk about what happened." Severus sighed, sitting down on the floor finally. His knee had been hurting him, again. But that happened with old injuries and this had been a particularly bad injury. And while he should be using his cane, he hadn't wanted the child to see him weak. In hindsight, seeing him weak would have been better than the recent spectacle in the kitchen. He had asked the child to place the pitcher of juice on the table, as Harry had been nervously pacing, begging to be allowed to do something. He had doubted that the small boy could even lift it at first, but Harry had reassured him repeatedly that he could do it. And he did manage to carry it halfway across the kitchen. But he had just sat down Maple's feed and the pig had come darting across the kitchen, knocking into the child. The pitcher went flying and the boy had landed on his knees. Maple had also been covered in the sticky, purple juice. Before he could ever react, Harry had took off into the nearest cupboard. It had only taken a few moments to vanish the mess and send the pig outside. Tim could bathe his pet later; magic irritated Maple's skin. So here they were now, lunch forgone, which was fine for him but the child actually needed food desperately. He was too underweight; all because he made a slight error in judgment and timing. He hadn't thought that Maple would come tearing through the kitchen for food. The pig was rarely so...vivacious these days.

Green eyes widen in disbelief, staring blankly at the door for a moment. He had wondered at first why the man hadn't just dragged him out, but quickly realized that it was like times with his uncle, when the door just locked itself. _No. It was my magic. I locked the door. _He grimaced but knew that he wouldn't be in trouble for that, at least. They had reassured him, these last few days, that magic was perfectly normal and that he would never be punished for using his magic, unless he used it to purposefully harm someone else. And then he still wouldn't be beaten. He was even starting to believe them. But how could he not be in trouble for harming Maple? The little pig had done nothing to him, and yet he had dropped a pitcher on her. Granted the pitcher had hit the floor, but she could have been cut! He had been, actually. There was a piece of glass, a small piece, in his hand and his knees hurt a lot. But he was fine. Bad but fine. He had dealt with worse, after all. But perhaps the dark professor would really not punish him. Perhaps leaving this safe place would not be so horrible. Besides, he could just crawl out a little bit, as it was a bit cramped in here, and retreat back in if he needed to. He hesitated for a moment longer before slowly reaching for the door handle, mind made up. He felt his fingers tingle and then the door clicked; he pushed it open, peering cautiously out at Severus.

"Good boy." He murmured, checking over the child with his eyes. The way the boy held his hand, the way he moved his body, suggested that he was hurt and in pain. "May I cast a simple diagnostic spell, Harry?" His goal was to gain the boy's trust, as fragile as that trust currently was. If he acted without asking, he could frighten the child and he didn't want that. Not after nearly an hour of talking him out of the damn cupboard. And the child wasn't even all the way out! Clearly he was still afraid of him. Many students did fear him, as his reputation preceded him. Severus was by no means nice and cuddly, but he wasn't mean or cruel, either. He cared greatly for his students, more so for those who had been hurt. And this child...well, the damn boy was stealing his heart. His fear made he feel...horrible. Like a terrible person. Although he did know that perhaps the boy was more afraid of being punished, which he wouldn't be, than he was of him. Or at least, that's what he could hope the child was afraid of.

He grimaced, eyes wide, but gave a hesitant nod. He knew the spells Healer Tim used to check him over didn't hurt, so the dark wizard's spells wouldn't hurt either. He could hope, anyway. Harry felt the telling tingle of a diagnostic spell, blinking when his legs started to glow a soft yellow and his hand starting pulsing a dark blue. That was different than what the Healers spells did.

Severus frowned, watching the lights of the most basic diagnostic spell. He knew more complicated ones, of course, but he hadn't felt that they were warranted here. He canceled the spell with a flick of his wand, summoning a bruise salve and a healing oil. "May I see your hand please, Harry?" He requested softly, unconsciously using the tone that he usually used for injured or sick children. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that the child was hurt, but most likely, it was merely his general concern for this boy. He also didn't want to frighten the child, although Merlin knows that he probably would eventually. His sarcasm often got away from him, but hopefully the child would eventually see the humour in his dry nature the way his Slytherins did.

Harry hesitated but gave a slight nod. He grimaced when the dark man raised an eyebrow at him, knowing that he would need to move out of the cupboard. He didn't want to. He felt safe in the cupboard. But he was also starting to feel safe when he was with his professor. The man had protected him from uncle after all. So why wouldn't he feel safe? Besides the fact that men never treated him well. But these three men had been different, so far, and although he knew they could change, he wasn't so sure they would. Besides the dark man wanted to see his hand to heal it, not to harm him. So leaving the cupboard was the only real option. He bit his lip, gazing up at the man from under his fringe of black hair, scooting slowly out of the cupboard. He inched forward, stopping every so often to peer at the man. But when the professor made no move toward him, he would press forward again. It was literally only a few metres, but it took him quite a few minutes to get within reach of the older man. He hesitated, green eyes unsure, but a quick peek showed that the man's face was not angry. Passive, most likely. Almost as emotionless as he tried to keep his. But he could see the concern in the dark man's eyes and that made him slowly, arm trembling, extend his injured hand.

Severus slowly extended his own hand, knowing that the child was watching his every movement. He gently grasp the boy's wrist, drawing the hand closer to him. He turned it palm up, scrutinizing the wound with a frown. There was a pool of blood around the small gash and he could see the piece of glass embedded into the boy's palm. The child had sat there for nearly an hour with glass embedded in his skin. He was such a bad guardian. Granted, he knew forcing the child out of the cupboard would have been a horrible idea and would have increased the child's fear of him. But still, it didn't make it any better that the child had been hurt for an hour. It also spoke volumes of Harry's life, as the child didn't even complain about the pain or mention that he was hurt. No child should be like that, not one Harry's age. "This might sting." He remarked quietly, locking eyes with the child for a moment before grasping the piece of glass between two of his long fingers and carefully pulling it out. The child did not so much as flinch or gasp and he knew that it would have hurt a little. He summoned a cloth, pressing it into the bleeding palm. He held it there for a few minutes until the bleeding stopped, picking up the healing oil. It was one of his best creations, to be honest. The oil would scour the wound of infection, knit the tissue and skin back together, and leave only a scab. If he wrapped the child's hand in a bandaged soaked with a different oil, the gash would be gone by tomorrow without leaving a scar. Magic could do much and healing magic advanced every day. Although magic could heal a body, it could only heal so much. Which was why, after so many years, his leg still bothered him. Magic healed part of the wound, kept him alive, but he have had to rebuild muscle naturally and the nerves could only be healed so much. This was, however, a very clean, simple injury. With the healing oil to encourage natural healing, the wound would heal quickly and good, without any lingering problems. If the boy did not pick at it while it was healing, which was why he planned to wrap it. He tilted the vial, pouring two drops on the wound, nodding in satisfaction when a wisp of smoke rose from it. Harry gasped but he knew it was more from shock than anything else. "It is a healing oil, child. It smokes like that to show that it is destroying any infections or germs that might be present." He explained briskly.

"Like when Aunt used alcohol on my arm and it bubbled?" He asked, staring wide eyed as his hand started to heal before his eyes. That was quite unlike anything Petunia had ever used on him, although some of her healing balms did work quite fast.

"Just like that." He nodded, raising an eyebrow in surprise for a moment. But of course the child would have an understanding of muggle medical practices. Most abused muggle-borns and raised did. He knew he had. He summoned a roll of the special, pre-soaked bandages, examining the child's hand for several moments before gently and carefully wrapping it. He tugged the bandage, sealing the edge wandlessly and casting a simple water proof spell on it. "May I tend to your knees, Harry?" He questioned, slowly letting go of the child's hand after squeezing it gently.

Harry hesitated for a moment, examining his hand with a frown. It didn't hurt at all, which was surprising, and the dark professor had not been harsh to him. Not that the man had been harsh to him at all, yet. He slowly moved forward again, so that his feet almost touched the older man. He gave a slight nod, raising weary eyes to meet kind onyx. He extended his leg slowly, biting his lip.

Severus gave a small, reassuring smile and gently grasped the boy's ankle. He eased the child's leg over his lap, carefully rolling the child's trousers up. He examined the bruise with a critical eye and gentle fingers. He prodded it gently, making sure that his spell hadn't missed anything, before picking up the salve. He spread it over the bruising quickly, nodding in satisfaction as it started to fade. He released the leg and gently took the other, repeating his actions before patting the child's ankle and releasing him. "Alright Harry, is there any pain still?" He questioned.

He blinked, confused for a moment. Although his hand still stung a bit, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. And the pain in his knees was already fading. He was confused that the man would even ask at all. But then, the professor had just taken care of his injuries, injuries that were his own fault, with such...care. It was, however, just pain and he was used to pain. Pain made the world clearer, sometimes. Harry hesitated, staring at his lap. He knew better than to lie, he'd just be in more trouble. Because even though the dark man said that he wasn't in trouble, surely he was. He had to be. Right? He finally nodded, grimacing.

Severus bit back a sigh, watching the tense child in front of him. Clearly Harry had not believed him. He shook his head, summoning a children's pain potion. "Drink this Harry." He ordered briskly, holding the blue vial out to the child.

The boy hesitated but obeyed, drinking the potion and grinning at the taste. "Licorice?" Harry fought back a giggle, this was the best tasting potion they had given him. It was much better than the thick one he took for nutrition, even better than some of the good tasting ones. He liked licorice though, it had been the only candy Dudley refused to eat, so he had gotten much of it when he was younger.

He raised an eyebrow, giving a slight shudder. "Yes Harry it has licorice root it in, which gives it that flavour." He hated that flavour with a passion and he had been trying to find an alternative ingredient but most children liked it for some reason. Some, however, begged him to give them the adult pain drought, since the child one was also used, in higher doses, for teenagers. All that matter was that the majority of children did not spit it out, a problem many parents and healers had to contend with. Children did not usually understand why their potions never tasted good; it was actually something he explained during the second class for first years. He sighed, hating the conversation he was about to start. "Harry. I want you to understand something. What happened was an accident and therefore no one's fault. You are not in trouble for it, so banish that thought from your mind."

Harry frowned, tilting his head to the side. It was his fault though. He dropped the pitcher and Maple could have been hurt. "I shouldn't have dropped it. I'm too clumsy." He muttered, glaring at the floor. He was clumsy, that's what uncle always said, even if he didn't think he was clumsy,

"Nonsense, child. Not only was that pitcher heavy but that pig tripped you. So of course you dropped it. It was an accident." Severus stated firmly, locking eyes with the boy for a moment until the child looked down once more. "I am not angry, Maple is fine and the pitcher is fixed. I was never angry, Harry. Just worried that you were hurt, which you were. Thankfully, your injuries were not serious." He added quietly, causing green eyes to snap up to him.

"Sir? I don't understand."

"What is it that you do not understand?" He clarified, raising an eyebrow.

Harry shook slightly but he knew he had to ask, even if he wasn't suppose to ask questions. But that was uncle's rule and didn't they say that uncle's rules didn't apply here? He wasn't sure what was true anymore. But he had to ask. He had to know. "Why am I not in trouble, sir?"

"Because you did nothing wrong, boy. Were you punished in the past for accidents?" Severus drawled, guessing the answer already. For the child's demeanor, he was probably punished for everything, whether or not he had something to do with it.

"Not an accident. Freaks don't have accidents, they do it a-purpose." Harry scowled, fiddling with the bandage on his hand.

"Unless you would like grammar lessons, Mr. Potter, I suggest you use the Queen's English and speaking properly. Further more, that entire statement is false. Firstly, you are not a freak. Did you allow Maple to knock you over and drop the pitcher on purpose? No? I didn't think so." He replied silkily, lifting a brow at the child. "Leave it alone, Harry." He frowned at the child until he stopped picking at his hand, shaking his head.

"But sir...it has always been my fault!" He protested, not sure why he was arguing. It wasn't like he wanted punishment. He just knew that if he wasn't punished for it now, it would be much worse later.

"That is inaccurate. I doubt it was always your fault. I am sure the blame was _forced_ onto you. But that does not make it your fault child. Do you understand?" Severus sighed, he should have turned that man into a beetle and ground him up for a potion. But no, it probably would have ruined the potion.

Harry hesitated but nodded. He didn't understand, not really, but he also didn't think that he would. Because Uncle had pounded the rules into his head for years, so they were still there. He couldn't just erase them. Not yet, anyway, if he ever could. He wasn't so sure.

The child didn't but he didn't know how to make him understand. He couldn't make him anyway; after all, Harry would come to realize that they wouldn't beat him or blame him for things he couldn't control. He couldn't force that knowledge on the boy, he had to come to it on his own. However, there was one threat he would follow through with. "Alright Harry. I am here for you; I will also answer any questions. However, you owe me lines. You will write 'I am not a freak' twenty-five times. Understood?" He ordered.

Harry jumped to his feet, willing to compel with that order, even if he didn't understand it. _Not a __freak? That's a weird sentence. _"Yes sir. Erm...with what?"

Severus smirked, summoning a piece of lined beginners parchment and a starter quill. "I will show you how to use a quill. This will be good practice for when you start school." He had a hidden agenda, really. Perhaps there might be one muggle born or raised with acceptable penmanship come September. It would be a blessing for his eyes. That was his goal, to make sure this child had acceptable skills with a quill.

Harry fought down a grin, taking the offered supplies and sitting at the table. He was confused though. Why was the man teaching him something useful as a punishment? Adults were just weird.

-x-

Tim frowned, eyes going from the child sitting at the table writing and the man at the stove. Not only should they have already eaten, but Harry's hand was also wrapped. The child had been fine at breakfast. Something must had happened in the few hours he had been gone. He stepped toward Severus, stopping a few feet away so not to startle the man. "What happened?" He asked quietly, glancing at the stove. The younger man was frying eggs, which was unusual in itself. Although Severus liked eggs, he rarely made them.

"There was a small accident. Maple is outside and quite sticky." He replied dryly, flipping the two eggs onto two plates. It was late enough that a small meal would hold them over until dinner.

He raised an eyebrow, frowning slightly. So Maple had been involved...he would have to speak with his familiar again as she was not used to being around children. Severus' tone told him much more than his words though. Perhaps the child had reacted badly to the accident; it was something he would clarify later, so as to not upset the boy anymore than he already had been. He surveyed the two younger men as Severus placed a plate in front of the child and gently tugged the quill away from the boy. He turned his back to them, so that he didn't have to hide his smile.

-x-

"He hid in a cupboard, Tim. A _cupboard. _Because he used to _live_ in one and I assume he felt safe there." Severus snapped, running his hand over his face. "It took nearly an hour to get him out of that damn cupboard." The child was currently with Albus, playing some inane game.

"But he did come out, on his own I might add, and he let you heal him. That is a major step forward, Severus. You cannot expect miracles overnight, you know this." Tim stated causally, although his eyes were sharp, observing the young man closely. The similarities in their pasts did not escape his notice.

"I am aware. It is disconcerting, however, for a child to believe he will beaten for an accident." He growled, glaring at one of the bookshelves in Tim's office. The man had too many psychology books, although there were other books on the shelves as well.

"Were you not the same once?"

"Don't." Severus snapped, onyx eyes crackling. He was on his feet and pacing, well limping actually, around the room in a matter of seconds.

Of course the young man's leg would be bothering him, it would explain why he was slightly more irritable than usual. It also helped that it was calling for a storm in the next few days, although hopefully not a bad one. And of course he would be refusing to use his cane, even though it was a rather nice cane. "You cannot prevent his fear, all we can do is sooth it. I know that is hard to accept but it is the truth here." He responded finally, meeting dark eyes with a sigh. The younger man huffed and finally returned to his chair, shaking his head. "With time and trust, his fear will go away. Much as yours did."

"That's all good and well but in the mean time, we have a hurting child on our hands. What exactly do you propose we do?" Severus asked silkily, raising an eyebrow.

"The same as I suggested to another, eight years prior. We love him and let him know that we care, that we are here for him, and that we will never harm him." Tim responded softly, leaning forward and resting a gentle hand on the other man's knee.

Severus scoffed but didn't shake off the comforting hand. The man did have a point. Harry needed their care, attention, and love more than anything else. Because love might not solve everything but it was as good a place as any to start.

-x-  
_A/N- If you are wondering what happened to Severus' leg and you haven't read "In Need of Saving" (it was chapters 11 and 12), he harmed himself years ago by slicing open the tendon on his leg and although it healed fine, it still pains him, as scars and old injuries are bound to. _


	12. Hippogriffs are Real

A/N_- Do not own. I had trouble finding a place to end this chapter, so it does end a bit awkwardly. Hopefully the next chapter will not take as long but we shall see. Harry avoids talking to Tim, Severus has a bit of an accident, and a storm brews. X's are scene breaks, italics are usually thoughts. There is always a reason to what I write; so if it doesn't make sense now, it should later on. Although, fair warning, I am sleep deprived, so I do not claim there are no mistakes. There probably are loads. As always, use your words._

_~Case_

-x-

Tim bit back a sigh, watching the child kick his feet against his chair. He could out wait the child, he knew, but he also knew that asking a direct question would lead them to talking much faster. As it was the boy had sat there for twenty minutes in complete silence. "How did you sleep this afternoon, Harry?" He asked finally, breaking the silence. The child was still falling asleep right after lunch, which was a bit worrying but not unusual for someone so young who had suffered those injuries and the mental fatigue of having to admit it, even if just to himself. Healing, especially mental healing, was often exhausting for the patient.

He shrugged, eyes focused intently on the faint pattern in the armchair. Well, two patterns. One was the fabric and the other seemed to be where someone had dug their fingers into the same spots repeatedly. Afternoons were much safer for sleeping because he often didn't have as violent nightmares, he didn't wake up screaming then. Although, sometimes he still curled up in his wardrobe. It still felt a bit amazing to have a wardrobe and sometimes he would wake from a dream and think that perhaps he had dreamed his dark man, perhaps he was still at Uncle's. But no, he had been here five days now. Five days. And the Headmaster was always reading to him and teaching him games; the dark man was showing him how to use a quill and still checking his room for monsters before he would fall asleep at night; and Healer Tim was still bugging him about talking. Because the man didn't understand that he had deserved what had happened, that it was _normal._ That Seaside was the weird place, because here he was treated like he was just like them, when he wasn't. He was still a freak, a worthless burden. And Healer Tim had tried, twice so far, to get him to speak of it. But he could not. He didn't know how.

"I know yesterday that you retreated to a cupboard. Can you tell me why, Harry? Why you ran to the cupboard first?" He did sigh then, wishing he knew what was going through the child's head. He was not so sure Harry would be ready for school, at least full time, come September 1st. It had little to do with the fact that the child wouldn't speak to him and more to the fact that he was still extremely skittish and terrified of everything. Hopefully they would move pass this stage soon, although probably into the clingy stage. He much preferred the clingy stage, even if it meant having to reassure the child constantly that they would not get rid of him.

"Safe."

"You felt safe there?" He questioned softly.

"Yeah. Cupboards are safe, adults can't fit." Harry shrugged, staring at his trainers. He liked the new shoes, even if he knew that freaks weren't suppose to have them. Aunt Petunia had given them to him, and that made them even more special, even though he knew she didn't want him anymore.

"Is there anywhere else you feel safe, Harry?" Tim asked slowly, watching the child's body language. The boy's non-verbal language was just as telling as the words he said. More so, even.

He hesitated, biting his lip for a moment before giving a slight nod. There was really only one other place he felt safe. Really safe. It was perhaps not a specific place and he would retreat to the cupboards when he felt frightened, more so than normal anyway, but he did feel safe here.

"Where is that, Harry?"

"Here. At Seaside." He shrugged, staring down at his lap and fiddling with his hands. Why did the healer have to ask so many questions? Didn't the man know that it was a waste of time? That he wasn't really worth his time?

"I used to not feel safe anywhere but here either. No one can hurt you here, we will not let them." Tim remarked softly, shaking his head. The child had been hurt so much, so often, that for him to feel safe here was a major step. If only he could get the child to trust him, to open up to them a bit more. The child needed help to heal but perhaps he had yet to realize how badly he had been treated. It was something they would have to work on.

"Were you ever afraid?" Harry asked suddenly, peering up through his black fringe. Curious eyes focused intently on the older man's kindly face,

"Do you want to know a secret?" He responded, smiling softly at the rapid nod. Of course he did, he was only eleven after all and children of that age loved secrets. "I have never been afraid here, at this cottage, but I am still afraid of many things. Especially clowns." He confided, forcing down a grin when the child stared at him with open amazement. Here he was, an adult, openly admitting fear. He knew it wasn't something Harry had heard before.

"Clowns? Really?" Harry hesitated for a moment, watching the healer closely. "I don't much like the dark, to be honest." He admitted softly, meeting the man's eyes for a moment before looking away.

"Ah, the dark. It can be truly frightening, even for people my age. And I'm old." He did smile that time, at the child's barely suppressed giggle. He wasn't actually old, but the child had been raised in the Muggle world and wouldn't know the difference in how age was viewed here. Plus making jokes at his own expense might help the child be more open. It was worth a try, anyway. "Were you afraid yesterday, Harry?"

He kicked his feet back and forth, biting his lip. He had been afraid, although he knew now that Severus wouldn't have hurt him. He had reacted on instinct, as he often did. It had been beaten into him, after all, and that didn't just go away over night. "Yes sir."

"Could you tell me what frightened you? You don't have to, of course, but it might help."

"I made a mess and hurt Maple! I deserved to be punished. Scared." He hissed, staring at the floor. Why was the healer asking him, surely he knew? Bad boys deserved to be punished. He was bad and he had hurt Maple, the man's pet. Surely he should have been punished. He knew he should accept punishments and not run from them, but he had acted on instinct, even with the knowledge that it often hurt worse if he ran. Although sometimes Uncle forgot about him and just locked him in his cupboard, which was only a bit better, really.

"It was an accident I heard. Accidents happen Harry and they aren't your fault. They are called _accidents_ for a reason. I understand your fear of being punished but you do not have to fear that here. We will not harm you, Harry. Do you remember the consequences Albus laid out for you?" He inquired softly, trying to get the child to see it himself, to believe it. There were very few instances when they would so much as swat the child, or even use a stinging spell. They would never beat him or punish him unjustly. He just didn't grasp that yet, but Tim expected that. After all, he had known abuse for the majority of his life. He wasn't used to fairness and loving discipline, so he wouldn't expect it.

"Yes sir. He said that they'd only spank me if I 'needlessly put my life in harms way'." Harry quoted, frowning at his feet. He knew, of course, the difference between what Uncle had done and a spanking. After all, Aunt Petunia had spanked him a few times, for running into the street or doing something dangerous, back when she had wanted him. It had never hurt for very long and it didn't make him bleed. Not like Uncle. He just didn't quite understand why these men would care if he did 'foolishly risk his life', as the dark man had put it. Uncle had encouraged such behaviour, even if Aunt Petunia had always punished him, even if they weren't really punishments, for it.

"That was one of them, yes. Do you remember the other consequences?" Tim asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes sir. Time outs." He made a face, glancing up briefly. Harry hated time outs, they were Aunt Petunia's choice punishment for him AND Dudley. He hated them! But perhaps that was the point, after all, it was a punishment. "Groundings, lines, and essays. Oh! And Severus said he'd wash my mouth out if I kept calling myself names." He finished, shaking his head. He didn't get their rules, they were so...simple. And they never changed them on him suddenly.

He blinked. That was the first time the child had called Severus by name. Or any of them by name for that matter. It wasn't something they could force, nor was it something he would make a big deal of. It just mean that Harry was finally becoming a bit more comfortably here. Or that the child didn't realize his slip. "Exactly. Never will any of us beat you or harm you, for any reason. Nor will we ever discipline you without discussing it with you first. You do not have to fear punishment here, Harry." He stated finally, giving the child a brief smile.

"Yes sir. May I go sir?" Harry mumbled, kicking his feet once more. He'd rather be doing anything else besides talking, especially if he could play with Maple.

Tim hesitated for a moment but nodded slightly. It wasn't likely that he would get anything else out of the child right now. "Alright Harry. Go play, but do come to me if you need anything." He replied finally, shaking his head when the child all but bolted from the room. Harry reminded him greatly of how Severus once was.

-x-

He sighed, staring down at the mess that was his lab table. It was half melted, with his crystal stirring rod stuck _in _the table. Damn. This would be impossible to hide from Tim and Albus; he knew the wards on the lab would have gone off the minute the potion had exploded. It wasn't just an accident, but an experiment. Something he knew he wasn't supposed to be doing, at least for another two days. But he needed it, he needed the release of brewing; the distraction of experimenting. The wards were there for a reason, of course; if there was a nasty accident, he didn't want to be left bleeding on the floor. But the wards would also show that he wasn't injured. Severus had managed to cast a shield around the cauldron, but it still had taken out the table. The cauldron, one of his good, sturdy, _indestructible_ ones, was completely ruined. Destroyed. Huh. He scribbled down a handful of notes in his journal, summoning his dragon-hide gloves as a knock came at the door.

"Severus?"

Well, it could be worse. It could be Albus, although Tim would not be pleased either. Albus had warned him against attempting this potion without clearing his mind first. Or without alerting the older man. Not because he couldn't brew it but the ingredients were very volatile and he was trying to change the recipe, make it stronger. The last time he had tried experimenting on this potion, he had blown up the lab at Hogwarts. But it was to be expected; he wasn't a Potions Master for nothing, after all. He _had_ to experiment, to improve past potions and create new ones. It was in his very veins and also part of his career. "I'm alright, Tim. Just a minor accident." He drawled, attempting to pick up the pieces of the cauldron. They were a bit...stuck. Damn.

"Mind if I check?"Came the annoyingly concerned tone.

He grimaced, peeling the glove off and tossing it down. The piece of cauldron had started to _melt_ his _dragon-hide!_ This was...not good. He knew what the healer wanted, but the lab wasn't particularly safe at the moment. If drops of potion were melting his gloves and destroying indestructible material. He took a deep breath, casting a containment spell around the area and strengthening the wards surrounding his supply and potion cabinets. With a huff, he stalked to the door, lowering the ward across it and opening it slowly. The lab also smelt horribly. "You could trust me." He growled, raising an eyebrow at the healer.

Tim raised an eyebrow of his own, wrinkling his nose. Gods, that smell! "I do trust you. But you have been known to ignore injuries for the sake of research." He commented dryly, stepping into the room. He studied to mess of a table, furrowing his brow. This was not a minor accident. That cauldron was one he had bought for the younger man a few years prior, for Yule. It should not be in pieces. "What happened?" He turned brown eyes back to the younger man, scanning his quickly with his eyes before holding out a hand. The child sneered at him but took the hand anyway. He quickly sent his magic throughout the young man's body, doing a quick scan for any damage that an explosion might have caused. He drew away with a nod, turning back to the mess. "So?"

"I might just vanish it, to be honest." He sighed, gazing back at his work space. He had known he wasn't injured or splashed, but it did feel nice to be worried about. That feeling would only last until Tim's disappointed face came out, however. He knew it would, it almost always did. But he wasn't a child and although he understood the reasons for rules and consequences, he didn't have to like them. "Clearly, I added too much venom. Or perhaps it counteracted with the rose petals...that could be a possibility, actually." He drawled slowly, grabbing his journal once more and scribbling down those thoughts. It could have been that the quantity of the venom had caused the explosion. Or it could easily have been the rose petals offset it too much. Or the nettles had not absorbed it. Or the heat was too high. Or the absorption rate too low. Something else could have caused the violent reaction. It was food for thought.

"An experiment, then. What, precisely, were you experimenting on? Or is this a new creation?" Tim inquired, shaking his head. The younger man always had trouble with the no experimentation restriction, usually when he was bothered by something and wanted to forget about it. Distractions made experiments much more dangerous, however. He didn't just make rules for fun, after all.

"Nerve tonic. The venom would strengthen it, the rose petals should offset the poison. But perhaps the red nettles..." Red nettles. Damn it. That was where he had gone wrong. He smacked his forehead, scribbling furiously for a moment before vanishing the entire mess. There was no saving any of it. None.

"Red nettles? For nerves?"Tim frowned thoughtfully, grabbing the young man's wrist absently. Brown nettles were usually used in a nerve tonic. Red were used for blood replenishment potions. Rose petals would be canceled by the red nettles. From the look on the young man's face, he had realized his mistake as well.

Severus jerked his wrist away, glaring at the wall for a moment. It had been a stupid mistake, one that he normally wouldn't have made. Damn it. He had lost his good work table and his favourite cauldron because of a stupid mistake. He was such an idiot. Worthless. Useless.

"Severus." Tim called softly, frowning when the man didn't even glance at him. The expression on the child's face was a mask, but his tense muscles gave away his anger. At himself. It had been a mistake, yes, and perhaps a careless one, but mistakes happened. The younger man probably had been distracted when he first grounded the nettles. Once grounded, they looked much the same. "Sev!" He called firmly, watching as dark eyes turned to look at him.

He arched a brow, forcing his face to remain bland. "Yes?" He asked dryly, tapping his fingers against his arm. His leg was aching, he was an idiot, and he just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask?

"Mistakes happen, child. We will discuss the reason you were brewing this later. For now, perhaps it would be beneficial to clear your mind?" Tim suggested, biting back a sigh. Harry and Severus were going to turn him gray, much sooner than he would like.

He ran a hand through his hair, giving a brief nod. It was a good idea, although it did make him feel like a child. He knew that wasn't Tim's point; the older man just wanted him to be safe and calm. So that he wouldn't feel the need to harm himself...or destroy furniture. He had not harmed himself over a potion in a few years, but that didn't matter. He was still a self harmer, he always would be. And he knew how easily he could slip back into it, he had fallen back before. He just hated being sent to his room like a child, hated feeling so useless. Worthless. He gestured the man out of the lab and follow slowly, warding it shut against curious children, before stalking down the stairs and into his room. It would be a very long summer at this rate.

-x-

He paused on his way back from the loo, peering into the child's bedroom. The door was open about an inch, probably left like that by Albus, and the little mess of a child was sprawled on the floor. He was turning over a toy in his hands, studying it with what seemed like awe. The dark-haired man watched as the child carefully set the toy back down, picking up the next in a small line. The boy wasn't playing with them; he was just looking at them. Like he was unsure of whether to play with them or not. He hesitated for a moment before taking a step back and knocking on the door.

Harry bolted upright, eyes focusing intently on the door. He knew he shouldn't be playing, even if the professors and Tim were always reassuring him. He was not a good boy and only good boys were allowed to play. He waited for a long moment, frowning slightly when no one entered. It then hit him, the man, whoever it was, was waiting for his okay, for permission. That was...odd. Although, all of them had been doing so, it hadn't clicked until now. He wasn't used to this, none of it, just yet. "Come in?" He called finally, biting his lip.

He softened his face, opening the door slowly. The child looked ready to bolt, like he expected the worst. He probably did, to be honest. "Afternoon, Harry. Mind if I join you?" He stated calmly, giving the child a small half smile when he nodded. He settled on the floor across from the child, stretching his aching leg out a bit. Hopefully the coming storm would not last for very long; he would hate to have to use his cane. He hated the damn thing, it made him feel so weak. He picked up one of the magical creature figurines and grinned at the boy. Children always did find this interesting. He kept several sets in the common room for his Slytherins, and not just on the lower shelves for the younger children. His older students played with them as well and his fifth and seventh years found them helpful for their exams.

He hesitantly smiled back, picking up the weird half horse half bird toy once more. He knew they were just toys, but they looked so very _real_. "Sir? What is this?" Harry questioned finally, turning it over in his hands. It had red feathers on its wing and a beak; it was a bit odd. He had never seen a toy like that before.

"That is a Hippogriff. Very intelligent creatures but also very proud. If you tickle it between its wings, it should fly." Severus explained, fighting down his amusement. The child clearly thought the toys were just that, toys. Not that there could possibly be real creatures. Dangerous creatures as well.

He frowned down at the toy, biting his lip. He wanted to tickle it, he did, but only good children had toys. And he knew that he wasn't one, otherwise Aunt Petunia would have wanted him. Besides that, he didn't want to do something freaky. He knew he was a freak and freaks were bad and freakishness was punished. But hadn't Severus told him otherwise yesterday? Hadn't the headmaster said that he wasn't a freak? That it was _magic, _he had _magic, _and that he wouldn't be punished for it? So perhaps it was alright to try, even if only to see if they were true to their word. That they would not punish him for being a freak. He fidgeted for a moment, haltingly tickling the Hippogriff. Nothing happened for a moment and then it suddenly roared to life. He watched with wide green eyes as the hippogriff stretched out its limbs before flapping its wings and hovering slightly above his palm. This was so wicked! It nipped at his finger before flying lazily around his head and landing on the dark professor's foot.

Severus shook his head at the toy, tapping it with a finger. It flew back to the child and he picked up the small dragon from the line up. "A real Hippogriff is not a creature to mess with, unless you are with someone who handles and trains them." He remarked absently, setting the Welsh Green to flying.

His grinned widely, a spark in his eyes. The dragon was even cooler than the Hippogriff! And it was breathing little puffs of smoke. He gasped when the dragon divided for the Hippogriff but giggled when the bird-horse nipped the dragon and flew off in the opposite direction. "Hippogriffs are real, sir?" He inquired curiously, picking up a cat-bird and stroking its head. It also took to the air, drifting away from the other two creatures.

"Yes child. Hippogriffs, Griffins, and Dragons are all real. There are dozens of magical creatures, many of which have muggle legends surrounding them. But they are real none the less. I am sure we have a book or two around here that tells about them. I shall find it for you tonight." He drawled quietly, biting back a smirk when the child looked at him with that light in his eyes. The boy had devoured the books they had given him so far, so he knew another would not go amiss.

"I'd like that, Sev-sir." He caught his slip quickly, lowering his eyes and biting his lip. Surely the man would be angry at him now, right? Because he had almost called him by his name? Uncle would have been livid to be addressed as anything other than Sir or Uncle.

"Sev-sir is an odd name. You may call me Sev, child, or Severus if you like." He teased lightly, shaking his head. All the siring had been grating on his nerves, to be honest. He liked respectful children, but sometimes it was just too much. His Snakes called him Severus in private, the ones who needed comfort, who came from bad homes, often called him Sev. Remus called him Sev, as did a few of the other professors. There was no reason the child could not.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, muscles still tense. He wasn't used to this and he wasn't quite sure if he liked this. He didn't like change very much, it meant new rules and different beats. Seaside brought a lot of change, but no beatings. He didn't know what to expect and that scared him. A lot. Because knowing made it easier to handle, to deal with.

"Alright there, Harry?" He asked finally, watching the boy with concern. The child was shaking, staring at the floor. Perhaps he had said the wrong thing? Perhaps teasing the boy had caused this. Damn it. He was truly useless.

Green eyes finally looked up, hearing the slight pitch to the man's voice. The dark professor might not show emotion openly, but his voice, he had learned quickly, gave him away. The man was not frustrated or angry, but...worried. He grimaced as he bit through the skin in his cheek, the taste of blood filling his mouth briefly. "I..I just. Don't understand." He answered haltingly, peering up through his fringe without quite meeting the man's eyes.

"What don't you understand child?"

He hesitated, shrugging for a moment. He didn't understand why they were so nice, why the rules weren't really rules, why they wouldn't beat him. He didn't understand a lot of things. But he understood why his aunt didn't want him, he was a freak of course. That was why. But why did they want him? Did they want him? Was their care just pretend? But the dark professor had checked his room for monsters; the healer always held him after his nightmares, if the Headmaster didn't get there first; the headmaster read to him every night. He felt _safe_ here and that scared him. Because he knew it wouldn't last for long. It couldn't. He didn't deserve it, did he? "Why are you nice to me? I am just a freak." He blurted finally, grimacing at the fiery glint in the older man's eyes, but it quickly vanished, replaced by an odd light that he didn't quite understand.

"You are not a freak child. I believe we have discussed this many times. I am not a nice man but I do care for you Harry. I am not being nice; I am merely giving you the care and attention you deserve and need. As are Tim and Albus. I know it is strange to you, but with time, hopefully, it will not be," Severus replied calmly, forcing his voice to remain brisk and bland, without showing the shard of anger he felt for that fat oaf. Two days left of his restriction and then he might just have to pay the oaf a visit.

He blinked. Clearly the man didn't realize how kind he really was. Perhaps he tried to maintain an..image? Wasn't that what aunt called it? He thought it was. A man who looked for monsters and who seemed to know exactly what he was doing, like he had done it several times before, was not unkind or not nice. The older man had told him a bit about the Hogwarts houses, including the one he ran and he thought that Severus' students were lucky, to have a man who clearly cared for them to watch over them. He often wished for that but he had stopped wishing long ago. It was almost like that wish had came true, though he knew it wouldn't last. Especially when they realized how much of a freak he really was. Even Aunt Petunia didn't want him no more. He must be a worthless freak. He must! He didn't want to be a freak but he couldn't help it. He knew he didn't deserve someone to care for him; especially not _love_. No one could love him, he knew that. He scowled at the floor for a moment, giving a brief nod as an answer, for what else could he do? Arguing was pointless, even if he knew it to be the truth.

He forced down a sigh, watching the child for a moment. The boy clearly didn't believe him, but he knew that actions had to speak louder than words here. With time, hopefully, the child would come to understand what he was trying, and failing, to say. He felt so...useless. The boom of thunder in the distance caused the child's head to snap up. The storm would be on them by the morning, if it did not reach them tonight. There was a small spark of fear in the child's now wide eyes.

Harry frowned, turning his head toward the window. He didn't see any lightning just yet but the thunder was coming every couple of minutes. He hated storms. They were loud and scary and often Uncle would throw him outside in them, if Aunt Petunia wasn't home. He took a shallow breath, rocking slightly. He wouldn't think about that, he wouldn't!

"Harry? Does the storm frighten you?" Severus asked softly, resting a gentle hand on the child's shoulder. The boy jerked and flinched, reacting on instinct. He sighed softly, raising an eyebrow at the child when he cautiously looked up at him. "I am sorry if I startled you. I will never harm you." His brisk tone caused the child to relax slightly, but not much.

"Sorry sir." He murmured, staring at his leg. He was such a baby, he knew the Professor wouldn't hurt him. He didn't know how he knew, he just did. And he trusted his instincts, they had saved his life a few times. Harry bit his lip, tapping his fingers rapidly against his knee. He knew, logically, that the storm was still far away, but he didn't like it. Not at all. "I...don't like storms." He answered finally, decidedly not looking up. He didn't want to see the dark professors disgust or pity. He was a man after all, he shouldn't be afraid of storms.

"I don't like them either." The dark-eyed man confided, a smile dancing in his eyes when the child looked up to him in shock. "How about we get some hot chocolate, Harry?" He suggested after a few more minutes of silence. Perhaps the chocolate would help calm the child and after supper he could find the book for the boy. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he liked spending time with him, even if it was playing with figurines on the floor.

Harry hesitated for a moment. He didn't deserve hot chocolate, he knew this. But...the man was offering and the drink always made him feel better, less scared. Perhaps Severus needed some as well, as he didn't look quite so well. Yes, if the Dark Man needed hot chocolate then he would have some, if only so the man didn't feel alone. "Yes sir." He jumped up, putting the animals back on the shelf before turning to watch the older man struggle to get off the floor. It took him a moment, but Severus was back on his feet. Perhaps it was because he was old, although he could see the limp in the man's step. Even though he knew they wouldn't keep him, he was growing attached to these men and he didn't want him to be hurting. He would have to help them, if subtly so they wouldn't fuss about him doing chores, so that the professor didn't have to do as much. He would be less of a burden and he would help more. Yes, that was the perfect way to help. A loud boom of thunder saw him accidentally grabbing the man's hand, like he would have done with aunt. He grimace and flushed, warily looking up at him, but Severus merely quirked an eyebrow at him, his eyes soft, and squeezed his hand. He would never admit it aloud, but he liked it when they held him. However, the man was limping but he didn't seem to mind holding his hand.

Severus smirked, imagining the look on Tim's face. The man would probably be pleased that Harry was seeking comfort, he knew he was. Even if it had, perhaps, been an accident, that was fine. He was quite content to hold the child's hand as they slowly made their way downstairs. Perhaps when the storm had passed he could carry the child once more, but for now, this would have to do. The more the child sought and received comfort, the better. He knew that the boy would not be healed completely in a few weeks time and that this first week probably was just the calm before the storm, but his actions showed that he could be healed and helped. And this was, indeed, great news. He would just have to spend more time with the boy, offer comfort and care whenever he could, so that Harry would grow up knowing what love was. That was his goal and he planned to achieve it, so he would.

-x-


	13. The Storm

A/N- This is a brief little fluffy scene, because otherwise ya'll were going to have to wait until the one year anniversary for an update...there shall be a longer chapter then. Do not own, as always. And please, use your words.

~Case

-x-  
He was staring blankly at his ceiling, listening to the loud crashes of thunder. The storm was finally upon them and it looked like it might be a bad one. He worried about the child across the hallway; hopefully Harry would sleep through the thunder but he somehow doubted it. He, himself, could not. The pattering of rain hit his window pane and Severus groaned, forcing his body to sit up and stretching out that painful right leg. As much as he wanted to go check on the child, he wasn't quite sure his leg would support him. And he knew it would only get worse until the storm was gone.

Harry sat in the middle of his bed clutching his dragon Aros to his chest; one arm wrapped around his knees, his face buried against them. He hated storms. They were frightening and they brought back bad memories. He had spent too many nights sleeping outside in the rain, when Aunt was out of town and couldn't take him with her. He didn't like storms, he didn't! Aunt always tried to comfort him, without Uncle noticing, but she wasn't here and she didn't even want him anymore. He didn't deserve comfort. He was bad. But perhaps he wasn't the only one frightened; the dark professor didn't seem to like storms either. He hesitated, slowly inching out of his curled up, protective state. It was dark, even with the little light globe, and he didn't like the dark either. A streak of lightning lit up the room and he flinched at the boom of thunder that followed it. He crawled toward the edge of the bed, his heart pounding. Severus had checked for monsters before he went to sleep but that didn't mean that the monster hadn't come later. They could have sneaked in after, even though the Headmaster had placed a monster repelling ward across the door, whatever that was. Magic, apparently. Magic that would keep the monsters out. He finally swung his feet over the edge and dropped silently to the floor. He glanced back up at his bed, frowning slightly. He wasn't quite sure how he would get back in but perhaps he could jump? That was a problem to deal with later, however. He padded softly to the door, not making a sound, and out into the hallway. He peered around for a moment before hesitantly making his way across the hall.

Severus frowned, glancing at his slowly creeping open door. Tim would have knocked first, as would had Albus. It was also the middle of the night. A tuft of black hair alerted him to his late night visitor as another crash of thunder hit. The child jumped and suddenly was fully in the room, wide eyes staring up at him.

"Sorry ssir. I'll just g-go." He trembled, blinking rapidly and clutching poor Aros tighter.

"Nonsense. Come on child, climb up." He beckoned, crooking his finger at the child. Slowly the boy came forward, stopping beside the bed. He bit his cheek to keep from laughing; the child's head was barely above his bed. The boy was small for his age, yes, but he was also quite tall and liked being a bit higher off the ground. He slowly reached over, lifting the child under his arms and up onto the bed.

Harry flinched when strong hands grabbed him gently, squirming slightly once he was on the bed. A bolt of lightning was quickly followed by a thundering loud boom causing him to jump and hit Severus' leg. He grimaced, ducking his head. Uncle would have beat him and thrown him outside for so much as bumping into him. "Sorry sir." He whispered, blinking back tears. He was terrified and now he had to leave, he just knew it. "I'll go."

He forced down a hiss, adjusting his hurting leg carefully before drawing the child closer to him. He felt the boy flinch, sighing softly. "Stop, Harry. I want _you_ here. I don't much like storms and I fear I wouldn't manage without you and Aros. I apologize, but you are stuck here for the foreseeable future." He intoned dryly, looking down at the mop of inky hair.

He blinked, body tense for a moment before he relaxed slowly, leaning cautiously into the older man. The man wanted him. _Him. _Even if it was just because he was afraid of the storm too. The dark man wanted him. Someone wanted him. He blinked rapidly, trying to fight down the tears. He wasn't a baby, after all, and crying wasn't allowed. That was what Uncle had always said. Crying was bad. Perhaps he had misunderstood. The man...Sev couldn't really want him. Aunt didn't wanted him, so why would the Professor? Why would anyone? He bit his lip hard, pulling away.

"Harry?"

He shook his head rapidly, drawing his knees to his chest. The man couldn't want him. He couldn't!

Damn it. He had said something wrong, he always messed up. He was so useless. Worthless. Perhaps he should just send the child to Tim? But the boy was frightened; of the storm but perhaps of something else as well. He couldn't send a frightened child away, especially this child. He just wasn't good at this. Good at all, really, but that wasn't the point at the moment. There was a child who needed someone and he couldn't be so selfish to dwell on his own problems and faults. He couldn't afford to go back to that head space right now. A crack of lightening lit up the room, showing tears slowly falling from confused, sad eyes. "It is alright child. You are safe. The storm cannot harm us here." He murmured finally, reaching out a hand toward the boy once more.

He flinched backwards, shaking his head. "Freaks don't deserve comfort."He whispered softly, digging his nails into his palms.

"You are not a freak." Severus growled, placing his hand on one of the boy's.

"Am too."

He bit back a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. Harry had left the door open and he could see a worried Tim peering in briefly before vanishing. No doubt that the wards on the child's room had gone off, or perhaps an alert on the child himself. He pushed that from his mind, knowing that Tim would come back if the man decided to. "We have discussed this many times now, Harry. You are _not_ a freak." He drawled finally, his face stern. He would convince this child if it too all night.

"Am. Must be."Harry argued softly, scrunching his eyes shut after a moment. He didn't know what he gotten into him, to argue with an adult like this! He would be beaten for sure.

"Why is that? Why must you be a freak?"

"Aunt doesn't want me no more. Must be a freak." Harry shrugged, forcing his face to be blank, biting the inside of his cheek. It was the truth, he had to be a freak. And if Aunt Petunia didn't want him anymore, no one else would either.

He blinked down at the child, taking a deep breath. The child believed Petunia didn't want him? That he was worthless? Because even if the boy had not said it, he could hear it in his tone. The child believed himself to not be worth concern or love. Much like...no. It was different, this was different. "Foolish child. Petunia sent you with me so that you would be _safe_, not because she didn't want you. She does want you but she would rather you be alive and well than living with that oaf of a bastard." Severus growled, locking eyes with the little monster that was making his chest hurt. "Not only does your aunt want you, but we do as well. Albus, Tim, and myself want you, Harry. We care about you. You are not a freak and you will always deserve comfort and _love_." He finished softly, resting a gentle hand on the boy's shoulder. To his surprise, the child did not flinch away. Perhaps he had finally done something right?

Harry hesitated but leaned into the touch. His aunt wanted him? She sent him away so that he would be safe? Safe from what? There was nothing back at Privet Drive to be safe from. Unless the dark man meant Uncle...but surely not. After all, Uncle only treated him the way a freak should be treated. He wasn't sure if the man was right, then, that Aunt Petunia wanted him, but he really didn't have a reason to not believe him. And the dark Professor had said that he wanted him as well. That he deserved their _love_. He deserved love? It was all too much. Tears ran silently down his cheeks and his small body trembled with the fear and confusion. Fear that it wasn't true. Confusion as to why someone would love him. He was a nothing, after all, just a freak. A small, pathetic little freak who couldn't even reach his own bed.

"Shh, Harry. It's alright. I got you." He whispered, lifting the sobbing child onto his lap. His words had been true but he should have expected this. After all, the child had heard how worthless he was for the majority of his life; he knew nothing else. Even if Petunia had tried, she couldn't stop the verbal abuse and she couldn't keep it from effecting the boy. It was becoming clear that they had a very long way to go with this child, that they had yet to even scratch the surface. He frowned when a tray of hot chocolate floated into the room before sniffing at the liquid. Both mugs were laced with a sleeping potion, although one also had a pain draft in it. "Here child, drink." He cajoled softly, placing the smaller cup to the child's lips. Harry drank slowly for a moment, his hands coming up to grip the cup. He still held the boy on his lap, shifting to drink slowly from his own mug. The drink was just too alluring to ignore for very long.

It took a few minutes for sleep to reach both of them, his spell easily catching the mugs before they could fall. Albus moved stealthily, widening the bed a bit and gently easing Harry out of Severus' arms. Tim lifted the corner of the covers so that he could ease Harry in. He tucked the child in tightly, before moving around to his son's side. Severus' features smoothed out in sleep, although he could see the pain there. He knew the young man believed many things, wrongly, about himself when things did not go as he expected. Harry might set Severus back a bit but perhaps his two boys could work it out together, could come to realize how important and loved they were together. He had not, after all, missed the end of that conversation. It had struck him hard, made him falter, until the reassuring hand of one of his closest friends touched his arm. Tim would always be the child he had first come to respect and then come to care for. A member of his ever growing family, which now included a small, black-haired little boy. A boy who stirred restlessly until his hand had somehow found a slightly larger one and a stuffed dragon had been placed in his arms.

Tim had moved Severus back under the covers, leaving the man's right leg uncovered for a moment. He massaged it gently, watching the last traces of pain leave the younger man's face. He bit back a chuckle when the Potion Master's hand encircled that of a small boy's, offering comfort even in sleep to the child. He took a step back so that Albus could finish tucking the younger man in, before placing a hand on the older man's arm and guiding him back out of the room, but not without placing a charm to let him know if either woke or if there were any more problems.

-x-


	14. Outbursts

A/N-_ Do not own. So here it is, the one year anniversary. Sorry it is late, but life happens. Italics here is memories or thoughts. X's are scene breaks. Cute in places and serious in others. Enjoy. And please, use your words.  
_

_~Case_

-x-

"Tim?"

He turned, brown eyes finding the small preteen. The boy was hovering near the table, biting into his lip once more. "Yes child?" He responded, absentmindedly stirring the soup.

Harry hesitated, watching the man's movements for a moment. He actually liked to cook, but the men hadn't let him, so far. "Can I help?"He queried carefully, fiddling with his shirt.

He hesitated this time, turning it over quickly. They didn't want the child to feel like he had to do these things but if the child really just wanted to help, he couldn't really deny him. He wasn't going to allow him to use the stove, at least not alone, but perhaps the child could prepare the salad. Tim was sure there was a child-safe knife in one of the drawers. "If you would like to, Harry. Would you like to prepare a salad for us?" He responded finally, frowning slightly when the child jumped at the distant boom of thunder. One storm was moving out and another was moving it. They were in for a few days of this weather, which made Severus quite displeased and pained the younger man greatly.

He nodded quickly, moving toward the counter where the Healer had already set the makings for a simple salad. The lettuce he could hand shred and then chop the tomatoes and carrots. He grabbed the stool that Albus had conjured for him days ago, so that he could wash his hands on his own. He wasn't that small! The men were just very tall and everything was higher up here. Perhaps that wasn't true but it hurt his pride to know that they thought he was too small to do anything substantial. Too small to cook or clean. He _liked_ to cook and if he couldn't do chores, how would he earn his keep?

Tim watched the boy shred lettuce leafs for a minute, shaking his head sadly. No child of barely eleven should be that experienced in cooking. Helping from time to time yes, but not knowing how to shred leafs to be exactly the same size. He turned back to the soup, adding just a bit of spices. It was a simple chicken and rice mixture, hearty enough for a meal and it would add enough protein and calories for both young men. It would also warm all of them up. Hopefully it would stop raining soon, but he doubted it. Weather spells showed that while the worst of the storm would be gone in a few days, it would rain for the rest of the week and perhaps part of the next. He glanced over at the child and froze. The boy was chopping carrots with the skill of an adult and a chopping knife. A chopping knife that he shouldn't be using. He could cut off his fingers with those. "Harry?" He murmured calmly, watching the child's sure movements.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'd prefer if you used a different knife." He replied causally, moving to get the child-safe knife out of the drawer.

"Why?" Harry questioned, resting the blade gently on the cutting board, holding the knife with ease. It wasn't much different than some of the ones he had used at Uncle's, although Aunt Petunia didn't like him to use the really sharp blades. He had to do most of the chopping before she was in the room and she didn't like him using the stove alone, like he was some little kid. He wasn't! He was a man!

"Because no one under twenty uses those knives." Tim replied dryly, setting the smaller, safer blade in front of the child and holding his hand out for the sharper one.

"I'm not a child!" He snapped. He then flinched, drawing back. Uncle would have beaten him for his words alone; the disrespect would have made it so much worse, maybe even several beatings. And although deep down he knew they wouldn't beat him, he just couldn't believe that. If nothing else, they wouldn't want him anymore. How could they? He was a worthless, ungrateful freak. No one should ever want a freak like him. "Sorry." He whispered, letting go of the handle of the knife and shaking slightly. He waited for several moments, eyes clenched tight, but no blow came.

"I will not harm you Harry." He murmured softly, resting a gentle hand on the child's shoulder. The boy flinched but he had expected that. "You are a child and you will be a child for many years. I don't want you using that knife because I don't want you to get hurt, Harry. The knife is almost longer than your forearm, a smaller one would be easier to use." He explained, waving his hand at the stove. The eyelet turned itself down so the soup would not burn and the chopping knife vanished back to where it had came.

He blinked, frowning up at the healer. He wouldn't have got hurt, he used knives like that all the time! But perhaps the man had not known that, had only wanted him to be safe. And he had snapped at him, which he shouldn't have done anyway. And yet the man still said he wouldn't beat him. He just didn't understand. Why were they so nice to him? They didn't treat him correctly at all! "Sorry sir." He whispered again, biting his lip.

"For what, Harry?" Tim asked gently, placing a hand under the child's chin and lifting green eyes up to meet his. Although the outburst was bound to happen eventually, he was actually glad that the child was slowly becoming comfortable enough to argue with them; to act like a child. Besides that, he had been cursed at so many times by teenagers and young adults that a little bit of anger was nothing. It came with his job. He would have been more worried if the child never had a reaction like that, so he wasn't upset by it at all.

He grimaced, trying to avoid looking into the Healer's eyes. Uncle had always hated eye contact and had often used tricks like this before he beat him. Often asked pointless questions. Because surely Tim knew what he had done wrong. But he didn't think the healer would beat him, even if he really didn't understand why. "I was rude to you." He muttered finally,digging his nails into his palm.

"Stop it, child. You have nothing to be sorry for." He grabbed the child's hand, smoothing the small fingers out gently. He causally turned the hand over, scrutinizing the red marks from the child's nails. He had just unwrapped the boy's hand this morning, from where he had gotten cut two days prior, and the boy's nails had dug into the recently healed cut. Thankfully, they had not reopened the gash but the child's nails would need to be trimmed. "I understand that you were upset and I am not angry about it, Harry. You have been taught that you are not a child, but you are. You are a child, you have the right to be cared for and treated as a child. You do not have to act like an adult anymore but I know that is hard for you to accept. It will take time, but if you let us, we will help you." Tim added softly, squeezing the small hand gently for a moment before letting go and motioning toward the smaller knife once more.

Harry bit his lip, tilting his head to the side. He didn't understand! He was unlovable, a freak...and yet they were still kind to him. Tim wanted to help him, he just didn't understand what he needed help with. He wasn't a child. Was he? Uncle had always said that only good boys got to be treated well, didn't have to do chore or get beaten. That only they could be loved, only they could be children. And he wasn't good. He knew that. Even if Severus had been right, late last night when he had crawled into bed with the man, and the man had let him! A freak like him! Severus had said that aunt sent him away because she wanted him, because she cared about him. But that didn't make sense either. None of this made sense! In one quick motion, he slammed his head into the counter-top, barely missing the knife and cutting board.

"Harry!"

He was suddenly in the air, an arm wrapped around his waist, being pulled away from the counter. He wriggled, fighting to get down. He was bad! He needed to be punished! It didn't make sense! It didn't!

He had turned toward the stove for one brief second, to turn the soup on a low setting, to keep it warm, and the child was slamming his head into the counter! He didn't even know what had set the squirming child off. He had tried to swing the child onto his hip so that he could carry him easier and assess the damage quickly but the boy was fighting him. He moved quickly toward the sitting room, casting a simple spell at the stove, one arm wrapped around the boy's waist and the other trying to pin his arms. This was not his first rodeo, after all. He sighed as nails scratched at his arms and feet kicked back into his legs. "Enough Harry!" He ordered briskly, though he knew it probably wouldn't help. He needed to get the boy calm before he harmed himself again; he also needed to get those blasted shoes off the boy's feet!

"No! Down! Bad!" Harry shouted, kicking wildly. He needed down. He was bad. He was bad. Bad. Why couldn't they understand? He was bad.

"Harry!" Severus growled, managing to pull himself up from his armchair and leveraged himself toward them, leaning heavily on his cane.

"His shoes, Sev!" Tim hissed, flinching when a particularly hard kick managed to connect with his thigh.

The potions master nodded his understanding, grabbing one of the child's flailing feet and pulling the shoe off quickly. He released that foot, grabbing for the other when it managed to connected with his right leg. He grimaced, biting his lip to squelch the rush of pain. Of course the little brat would kick his bad leg. He caught the other foot, yanking the shoe off before stepping back. The limbs were still flying about every which way, Tim would need some of his bruise salve. He straightened his leg slowly, not bothering to hide the pain this time as nerves sent shock-waves up his body. A hand steadied him from behind, an arm wrapping around his shoulder and pulling him away from the screaming child, back toward his armchair. He noted that the boy's forehead was a deep red before glancing over his shoulder at Albus. He hadn't even heard the floo go off.

"What do you need, Tim?" Albus asked, eyes on the distraught boy even as he pushed his son back into his chair. He conjured a footstool with an absent wave of his hand, knowing that Severus would never admit it but he would need it desperately.

"NO! Bad! FREAK! NO! HURT!" He wailed, pounding his feet into the person still holding him. He tried to hit as well, but his arms were pinned to his chest, a larger arm across them.

"Armchair." Tim growled, adjusting the child so that he wouldn't drop him in his wiggling. He had been trying to get him to his armchair but it was across the room and the child was not making this easy. "Shh, Harry. It's alright. Breathe." He murmured through gritted teeth, ignoring the sting when now sock-covered feet slammed into him again. The child had fought every attempted at calming magic so far; he couldn't even get a drop of it in the boy! If he didn't get him calm soon, his magic was going to start spilling out or someone was going to get seriously hurt.

He nodded, waving his wand at the healer's armchair. He sent it flying over to them, landing softly a few metres away from the pair. Albus hesitated for a moment before changing the armchair slightly, so that it was now like a rocker. Hopefully that would help.

He carefully sat down, pulling the child onto his lap and finally pinning the boy's legs with one of his. He pulled Harry back against his chest, murmuring comforting nonsense into the child's ear, keeping his arms pinned as well.

Harry struggled for a few minutes longer before the soft words finally started to get through the haze of his mind. He stopped trying to kick and turned his head, burying his face into the healer's shirt as a trickle of calm started to fill him.

Tim rocked slowly, gently loosening his hold on the child. Now that the boy was no longer fighting his magic he could scan him for damage. He pulled the child back from his chest a bit, resting a gentle hand on his forehead and letting his magic scan the boy. A bit of bruising to the skin, but nothing serious. The child was lucky; a bit harder and he would have given himself a concussion. He turned the boy slowly, so that he could rest more comfortably against his chest. "Sh, that's it Harry. I got you." He murmured soothingly, feeling the tears soak through his shirt. The child responded by crying harder. He sighed softly, rubbing circles into his back, letting just a bit more of his magic flow into the child.

"Sorry." He choked out, letting the tears streak down his face. He made no noise but his shoulders shook and his head hurt a bit. "Was bad."

"It's alright, child. We'll talk about it later." He murmured, adding just a drop more magic. The boy was slowly calming down and he knew it was just a matter of minutes before the boy fell asleep. He had emotionally, and physically, exhausted himself after all. He kept rocked with the child, listening as his breathing evened out and his tears finally stopped. The young face was still buried in his chest and he could feel the child falling asleep.

He blinked rapidly, trying to force himself to keep his eyes open. But he was tired. So tired. And he just wanted to be held. He was being held, gently even, by the healer. It felt...nice.

It took several minutes but Harry was finally fully asleep on his lap. Thankfully, there was no concussion to worry about so the child could safely sleep. He bit back a groan when careful hands lifted the boy off of him and onto the transfigured couch. The boy's fighting had hurt and he could do with a nap himself, to be honest.

Albus gently laid the child onto what was recently a couch, now a bed, and covered him with a brightly coloured blanket. He tucked the child in, summoning the dragon, Aros, that the boy carried around. He placed the dragon in the child's arms, turning to his two young men. He had already tended to Severus' leg, it had a new bruise blooming over the old wounds, while Tim had attempted to calm the child. Now, however, it was time to tend to his oldest, even though Tim had been his healer to begin with, he had become like a child to him. Even if the younger man didn't realize it yet. He gently took the man's wrist, turning his arm to see the long, red scratches. "Harry did this? " He murmured softly, shaking his head. The child had fought like his life had depended on it, and maybe in the past it had. But now, with their help, the child could grow into a healthy, happy lad. They would just have to get through this stage of healing first and it could be a rather long stage.

Tim grimaced, tugging his wrist but the older man wouldn't budge. He could feel the bruises starting to form but it wasn't that bad. He had worst after all; he worked with children and teenagers who often fought any comfort or help because it was foreign. Severus had been that way, although the man had never fought him like this. Perhaps because Severus had been in his early twenties when he took over as his healer; the worst that the younger man ever dealt out were kicks and that had been rare. "One of us will need to clip his nails. I'd hate to think of the damage he could do to himself." He responded finally, knowing that the Potions Master would have already cast a silencing spell.

He nodded solemnly, glancing once more over at the sleeping child before turning back to tend to the scratches and bruises on the young healer. He gently rubbed the healing salve over the scratches, pulling back slightly to wave his wand over the healer. His diagnostic charms were not as strong as Tim's, or even Severus', but they worked well enough for basic day to day encounters with children. Tim had taught him a few more complicated ones, that he had then passed on to his staff, to help detect abuse much earlier, but this basic charm was good enough for this. The man growled at him when he started putting a bruise cream on his legs, jerking slightly. Merlin! Healers made the worst patients! "Let me help you, child." Albus murmured softly, reaching over and squeezing the younger man's shoulder. It took a moment but Tim finally relaxed, exhaustion hitting him, and gave in to his gentle care.

-x-

An early dinner and a bath later, Harry was sleeping again. His outburst earlier had drained the boy and although Tim did not want to admit it, he was tired as well. It wasn't the first time he had handled such outbursts and struggles but they were always tiring. He bit back a sigh, glancing through the sheets of parchment once more. Harry's medical records and what they had managed to get from his primary school. Which wasn't much. The boy had attended classes regularly, had always been quiet and shy. Did well on tests, read above his level, and stayed out of trouble. There were notes from the nurse about Harry's eyes and a note that the boy was fidgeted and didn't always focus. That was it, that was all the school had on Harry. A child who was taught to never ask or answer questions, who was trying to pay attention to all the perceived threats at once and fidgeted because he knew being still meant getting caught easily. So little about the child and yet it told him so much. The medical records, the ones he had started, painted a vivid picture of abuse and neglect. None of that explained why the child had started slamming himself into the counter, nor why the child thought he needed to be punished. And his conversation with Harry, after the child had woken from his nap, had not gone as well as he hoped.

_ "Can you tell me what happened, Harry?" _

_ The child merely shook his head, biting his lip. He had been bad, he knew that. He had hurt the healer, even if he hadn't meant to. "Sorry." He whispered._

_ "For what, child?"_

_ "Hurting you. Was bad." Harry shrugged, staring at his feet. And now the healer would laugh and say he was a freak and should be sorry. Now they'd send him back to Uncle. His chest hurt at the thought, he didn't want to go back to Uncle. He liked it here._

_ Tim sighed, observing the blank expression and the fear in those young eyes. "I understand that it was an accident Harry. I am more concerned about why you were harming yourself." He replied quietly, clarifying when the boy merely blinked at him. "Hitting your head." _

_ He grimaced, shaking his head slowly. Uncle had always liked to watch him punish himself. Why was it so different here? They didn't like it when he did that, so he would have to do it in private from now on. Because he knew he deserved the pain, Uncle had always said so. "Was bad, sir. Deserved it." _

_ He raised an eyebrow at the child, leaning forward. "You believe you deserved to be punished, Harry? So you harmed yourself?" He questioned briskly, knowing from the way the child looked down that it was true. The child believed he deserved the pain, that he had done something that needed to be punished with pain. But the child had done nothing except for being a child. "You do not deserve to be punished, Harry. If you think you do, that you deserve pain, I want you to tell me, alright?" Hopefully he could break the child of harming himself before it became an ingrained way of life. But the child had not answered him, had not even looked at him._

"Tim? Tim." Albus called for the fourth time, breathing a sigh of relief when the younger man finally looked up at him.

"Mind sharing with the rest of us?" Severus drawled dryly, setting his book on his lap.

He sighed, glancing at the younger man for a moment before turning his attention to the older one. Severus would need a relaxant salve on his leg soon, before it started cramping up again. "Harry seems prone to harming himself when he perceives that he has done something 'bad'." Tim stated finally, running a hand through brown hair.

Albus bit back a groan, observing both of the younger men. The child would not be ready to live in the dorms in three weeks time, not at all. A child who was prone to harming himself...they would have to nip this in the bud, help him change his reactions to situations but he needed to know something first. "Is it possible to change this? Or is he entering a cycle of self harm?" He questioned, glancing at the squirming potions master. If he had been able to catch Severus' before it became a habit and then an automatic response, the last eight or so years would not had been as much of a struggle for the younger man. And he would still have full use of his right leg. But he hadn't caught it in time, hadn't been able to prevent it. This time, however, he would not fail one of his children.

He knew what Albus was asking, of course, but he also knew that it would be a hard task either way. The child would need an outlet, a constructive one, because he did not what Harry to end up like him. Even if he didn't harm himself anymore...alright, well he had a slip-up this week, but it happened. He didn't wish that on the child; hell, he didn't wish that on anyone. It had taken a bit of cajoling for Albus to convince the child to let him clip his nails, but hopefully shorter nails would keep him from scratching himself, at least. Tim would have already warded the child's room and there would be safety spells on all the knives...perhaps a few cushioning charms might help as well. Because even if they couldn't completely prevent Harry from harming himself, they could lessen the amount of harm he could do.

"It is possible, yes. But it will take work and reinforcing good habits. You know how it works, Albus. If we see him harming himself, we stop the behaviour and have him talk about it, and then suggest something else he could have done instead." Tim replied, closing his eyes for a brief moment, There was so much to do to help this child, to teach him.

He nodded once, watching the younger man for a longer moment. There was much to do before school start, but that was alright. It would get done. He had three children to take care of, after all. Three young men who needed love and love was what he would give them.


End file.
